Milestones
by Miazaki-san
Summary: We know Waylon had Lisa and his sons to live for, but what about Miles? Did he have someone to come back to? This is a fic about Miles' life leading up to and during Mount Massive through the eyes of Park, Young-ja, his best friend.
1. Meeting

**A/N: I really love Outlast, and I love Miles Upshur. I notice a lot of the fandom gives love to Waylon and Eddie, and barely any to Miles. So, here I am with a Miles/OC story, because we get backstory for Waylon and none for Miles. And, since he doesn't have a canon personality (besides his notes, which I am using to base his personality on) and a canon appearance, I'm molding him to how I think he would be. I hope you enjoy! Oh and I will post my face claims for the characters soon. **

-Fall 2001, Colorado State Universtiy-

Of all the days the printer had to break down, why did it have to be today?

The rain pounded on my umbrella as I raced across campus, a string of curses spilling from my mouth with every step.

My English paper was due today, and I decided, in all my great wisdom, to print it this morning instead of yesterday. But, the freaking piece of shit must smell fear because it broke down, and I had to wait FIFTEEN MINTUES for the librarian to fix it.

Which is the reason why I have to sprint towards the English building in the middle of a storm to a class I've already five minutes late for.

Eventually the two-story building came into sight, and I plowed through the door, eyes locking onto the classroom at the end of the hall.

"I'M HERE!" I shouted, slamming the door open and throwing my paper onto the professor's desk.

"Congratulations." A monotone voice chimed in from the back. "Shall we give the lady a prize, class?"

I whipped around and spotted a boy reclining in one of the seats, feet on the desk and playing on a GameBoy.

Not in the mood for this punk's attitude, I was about to fire back a response, when I realized we were the only ones in the room.

"Where is everyone?"

The guy twirled his finger, signaling for me to turn around.

On the blackboard, there was a message from Professor Willis:

_Good afternoon, class!_

_I have a meeting today, so class is cancelled. I will take up your reports next class._

_-Have a great day!_

I wanted to track the bastard down and throat punch him for doing this to me.

Heaving a great sigh, I collapsed onto a nearby chair, my body feeling like lead weights.

"I take it you didn't read the e-mail he sent out this morning." The boy piped up again.

Nevermind.

I'll just throat punch this guy.

Polite, lady-like attitude be damned.

Shooting a glare in his direction, I stood up and marched over to him.

"Look. I don't need your sass at the moment. I've have a rough morning, and your input is not helping at all." I was about to storm out of the room when something dawned on me. "Wait, if you already knew class was cancelled, why are you here then?"

The boy shrugged, never taking his eyes off the GameBoy screen.

"My roommate has company over, thought I'd find some peace and quiet in here," He then glanced up at me. "But I guess not."

At the end of my rope, I flipped him off, which just made him smirk.

"You never act this way in class, Young-ja. I thought you were one of those silent bookworms."

I was surprised he knew my name.

During my three months at Colorado State, I've never seen this guy.

"How do you know my name?"

"Not very perceptive, are you," He leaned back in his chair and continued tapping away at his game. "I've sat behind you all semester. I always ask for a pencil before class starts. Remember?"

Suddenly everything clicked together, and I felt my face flush in embarrassment.

"Oh yeah. You're Miles Upshur, the journalism major."

Like me, he never spoke in class and was often forgotten in favor of the louder students.

Embarrassed at the blunder, I gathered my things and scurried towards the door.

'I'm such an idiot! How could I forget who he was?!'

"Wait," Miles called out, "why are you running away? If you're embarrassed, don't be. It was a simple mistake, not a federal offense."

Regardless, I just wanted to go back to my room and sleep away this terrible morning.

"Well, before you run off, let's exchange numbers then."

He actually shut off his name and offered up his phone.

I stared at him like he grew ten heads, and he scoffed.

"Don't flatter yourself, short stack."

Short stack?

"If I have contact with you, then I can let you know whenever class is canceled." Miles waved his phone in my face. "So, chill and hand over your phone."

Still a bit uneasy but wanting to make up for my previous mistake, I handed him my Nokia 8310 and took his Ericsson T68.

A few beeps later, Miles Upshur was in my contacts, and I was in his.

I cracked a smile at his listing: "Miles Upshur Journalist Extraordinaire".

"Well, Mr. Upshur," I shifted my books and held out my hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, don't give me your 'polite student act' now, short stack. I've already seen your true colors, so don't bother," But he took my hand in his and shook it. "And call me Miles, alright?"

I nodded and waved as I scurried from the room, barely catching his lazy wave as he returned to his GameBoy.

Not exactly the best introduction, but I guess I just made my first college friend.

I guess?


	2. Friendship

**A/N: I would like to thank Enigmatic-Elysium for the lovely review. I hope this story will suit your needs. Haha!**

After our run-in that stormy day, I made sure to greet Miles when coming to class, and he would do the same with a "Hello" or some other variation.

Sometimes Miles would pass me a note in class with a drawing on it and ask me to add on.

Other times he would bring in a bag of candy (ex: gummy worms or jelly beans) and silently pass me a handful of whatever sweets he had.

Nothing beyond that though.

No texts.

No calls.

That was,until a week before finals.

I was in the music room, rehearsing a piano piece for my final presentation when my phone vibrated; it was a text from Miles.

_Meet me in front of the library. Very important._

What a cryptic first message.

Before heading across campus, I made sure to clean up the music room since Professor Roskin was kind enough to let me have the room for the morning.

While speed walking towards the library, I pondered what could be so important that Miles had to alert me, a complete stranger.

I found him lying on a bench, listening to his CD player and tapping his foot on the arm rest.

It seemed like he always had some form of technology at hand.

"You're slow, short stack," Miles sat up when he spotted me. "I sent you a text thirty minutes ago."

"I had to do something." I tighten my scarf, wondering how he could stand the cold. "So, what'd you call me out here for?"

Did he need help with homework? Money problems? Filing taxes?

"I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

Or that.

"Are you serious?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "You called me across campus to eat? Sorry but I need to practice for my presentation next week."

"Yesh. Loosen up, Ms. Uptight. It is just a trip to Burger King, not a journey to Middle Earth."

I pulled his beanie over his face and stomped away.

Food?! He got me all worried over food?! That jerk!

"Alright, alright!" Miles skid in front of me, almost slipping on the ice. "It was a joke, short stack. Take a chill pill and let's go get a whopper. A friend of mine gave me a coupon, but it only works if I buy two meals." He waved the piece of paper in my face. "C'mon, my treat."

I leered at him a while longer before snatching the coupon from his hand.

"Fine. Lead the way, Upshur."

"Damn. You get spicier by the second, short stack. Too much kimchi in your diet?"

"I swear to God, I will punch you in the dick if you don't shut up."

Miles lead me to the West Campus parking lot where his ride was located.

You know, for someone who dressed like a bum, Miles has a really nice car.

"My pride and joy," He stroked the hood of the red 1987 Jeep Wrangler YJ. "It was a graduation present from my parents."

"Mine was an ice cream cone."

"Sucks to be you."

"Just unlock the damn doors already."

The ten minute trip to Burger King threatened to rupture my eardrums.

Guns n' Roses blasted from the speakers and shook the car.

Now I love hard rock as much as the next guy, but I prefer to worship Slash's shredding below the twenty mark.

"And you say your roommate is noisy." I grumbled to myself.

The moment we parked, I threw the door open and tried to cease the ringing in my ears.

"Aren't you a music major?" Miles laughed as he locked the doors. "I thought you'd be used to this."

"We wear ear plugs though! And I'm surprised no one has sued you for noise pollution yet!"

"Can't sue me for blessing their ears with good music." Miles held the entrance open and gave a mock bow. "Shall we?"

Once we had our discount food in hand, the two of us settled in a booth next to the playground.

"Why me?" I asked while nibbling a french fry.

"Mhm?" Miles looked up at me, his mouth stuffed with food. "Whufdufume?"

"Chew then swallow, you slob."

He slurped down some coke and wiped his mouth with the napkin I shoved in his face.

"I said, 'what do you mean?'."

"Well, we barely know each other, and suddenly you invite me to meet you for lunch like old friends. What gives?"

Miles took a noisy slurp from his drink, a bored expression plastered on his face.

"I fail to see the issue here."

"My point is why did you choose some girl you barely know? Why not go with the friend who gave you the coupon?"

"Because we **are** friends, and I wanted to hang out with you outside the classroom."

"Seriously?" I gaped at him.

I mean, sure I _guess_ I consider him a friend, but he is more of a strong acquaintance than anything else.

"Yeah, why not?" He took another bite of his whopper, that bored look never leaving his face. "We're both freshmen, share the same class, I think you're alright, and you must, at least, find me tolerable since you are still here. So, yeah. Let's be friends."

"And your way of starting a friendship is a trip to Burger King?"

"Would you prefer it if I made bracelets and weaved flower crowns while singing "Wannabe" by The Spice Girls?"

"No." I snorted, trying not to laugh at his example.

The only people I ever talk to are the other music students, and all we talk about are homework and recitals.

I guess it would be alright to add some variety.

"Alright. I guess we can."

"You make it sound like you just sold your soul. Lighten up, short stack. I don't have _cooties_ or anything." Miles said with a 'creepy' voice while waving his arms around like those inflatable noodle men.

I tossed a ketchup packet at his face, trying not to smile at the little dance he just did and failing miserably.

Well, nothing dull can come from hanging with this guy.

That's for sure.


	3. Texts from Miles

**A/N: I would like to thank Enigmatic-Elysium for the awesome reviews! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome any new readers!**

-Texts from Miles-

I wasn't lying when I said being friends with Miles was going to be interesting.

Throughout the following weeks, whether I was in class or practicing, my phone would always ring with a ridiculous message from Miles.

For example, this one came during winter break:

**Short stack, meet me by the jeep. I want to buy a karaoke machine.**

Since the break from classes lasted only a week, most students, including Miles and I, decided to remain in our dorms and enjoy the snow there.

Of course, with the big music festival coming up in February, I had zero time to rest, so I locked myself in the music room and applied myself.

The Dean of the Music Department used the festival to scout for talent, and if you impressed him, you had a clear shot of receiving a seat in the Honors Program.

So there I was, doing vocal exercises and warming the ivory keys, when my phone vibrated and I saw that silly message.

I told myself to ignore him, but I ended up walking around Kmart with Mr. Journalist Extraordinaire for two hours to find 'the perfect karaoke machine.'

We ended up finding one for sixty bucks, but Miles managed to convince the salesclerk to dock the price down to twenty with a wink and one of his 'sexy' grins.

He calls it 'sticking it to the man'.

I call it 'illegal".

But Miles really is a good looking guy, even I will freely admit that.

It's his parents fault for being so gorgeous, according to the photo he carries in his wallet.

His mom is a beautiful Italian café owner, and his papa is a handsome librarian from the U.A.E.

I now understand where Miles' extensive vocabulary and love of blueberry muffins comes from.

After we made our purchase, I spent another two hours helping Miles assemble the damn thing, and another three singing the entire Backstreet Boys discography with him.

Needless to say, I didn't get any practice done during winter break.

* * *

Text 2: **IHop is having a pancake special. Guess where we're going.**

This text took place the night of the music festival.

I had just finished my performance which consisted of an original piano piece and one of my favorite Korean love songs.

My audience was half the student body and the Dean himself.

I wasn't nervous.

I was **petrified**.

The entire time I was on stage, I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and scream.

But, I went through with my performance, thanks to Miles cheering me on from the back row.

"YOU GOT THIS, SHORT STACK! MELT THEIR FACES WITH YOUR MAD SKILLS!"

Oh, Miles, you are a true E.E. Cummings.

Once I was backstage, my phone rang, and the pancake invitation was bestowed upon me.

Fifteen minutes later, we sat in a corner booth with two plates of pancakes steaming in front of us.

"Eat up, short stack!" Miles beamed, drowning his stack in syrup and blueberries. "My treat."

All I could do was grin widely and nod.

Miles really is a warm person underneath his cynical attitude and 'tough guy' exterior, although no one sticks around long enough to see it.

Simply, it's because Miles doesn't give a damn about what people think and lives by his own principles.

His dream is to be a great journalist who writes about the things no one else will and brings the truth to light, even if he has to go on the frontlines to do it.

I admire his dedication and sense of justice, but that punk is going to lose a finger or two living like that.

Miles has a lot of issues with corrupt dealings and the mistreatment of innocent people, especially when the guilty parties are wealthy or 'preppy, white-collared bastards' as he likes to say.

He once told me, "If my stories can bring those bastards to justice, then I can die happy."

I responded with, "Just be smart about what you do. I don't want to turn on the t.v. eleven years from now and hear you've gone missing or something."

Despite my constant irritation, Miles has become a dear friend of mine, cocky attitude and all.

Although, I fear he's become a negative influence on me.

Whenever I was angry or humiliated in the past, I would hide my true feelings and be a perfect lady, like my mom taught me:

Professor: "Ms. Park! You've messed up the piano scales once again. Class, take notice, this is what a slacker looks like."

Me: "I'm very sorry, Professor! I will try harder. Please give me another chance."

Now, I just tell them off:

Professor: "Ms. Park! You've messed up the piano scales once again. Class, take notice, this is what a slacker looks like."

Me: "Why don't you back up? I understand you didn't get any action from your wife last night, but don't take your frustrations out on me. Take a freaking chill pill."

My punishment was to clean all three music rooms for a month, while Miles laughed his ass off.

Jerk. Take responsibility for what you've done to me.

"Hey," Miles waved a hand in my face, snapping me out of my daydream, "Your pancakes are getting cold, short stack."

"Oh, sorry." I immediately dug in, noticing I actually had a plate of 'short stacks'.

"What's the matter? Brain fried from the stage lights?"

"No, just thinking." I gazed up at Miles, who had blueberry stains on his lips and cheeks. "Say, Miles, can I ask a question?"

"I don't know. Can y-?" "**I will fight you, Upshur**."

"What is it?"

"I've always wondered why you call me 'short stack'. Is there a particular reason?"

He rolled his eyes and picked at his teeth with his nails.

"What a stupid question. Thought you were about to ask something important."

"Well it's important to me." I glared at him, crossing my arms. "C'mon, fess up."

He smirked and rested his cheek in his palm, looking me dead in the eye.

"It's because you _**are**_ a short stack. I have to bend my knees to see your face. Also," he pointed to the stack of pancakes in front of me, "your hair is brown and fluffy like those pancakes. Not to mention you are as threatening as one too."

"That's it?" I huffed, "What stupid reasons."

"Well, there is one more reason," Miles leaned forward and gestured for me to do the same.

He cupped a hand around my ear and whispered, "It's because short stacks make me happy, just like you do."

I immediately pulled away and gawked at him, cheeks turning pink.

"..what?"

Miles said nothing and sipped his coffee, avoiding my gaze.

"Are you serious, Miles? It is not like you to say something so….cute."

He shrugged and continued to sip his, now empty, cup.

It was then I realized he was trying to hide his cheeks which were also turning pink.

"Oh my gosh, did you give yourself second-hand embarrassment?!" I squealed, covering my mouth as my body shook with laughter.

"Shut up!" Miles snapped, his cheeks now red. "It was a joke."

"Joke or not, that was the cheesiest thing you've ever said to me! I wish I could've recorded it!"

He just groaned and buried his face in his arms as my laughter filled the empty restaurant.

Oh, Miles, you're such a dork.

* * *

Looking back on these texts and the many others Miles has sent me, I find myself smiling which each memory and how our friendship has grown with every passing day.

I just hope it will last beyond our college years.


	4. Because I Care

**A/N: I would like to thank Enigmatic-Elysium and EcoSeeker247 for their lovely reviews. I hope my story continues to please you! And I drew some pictures for this story. You can get the link on my profile page. Click on each of the pictures to see my captions for them. Not sure if that works on mobile, but oh well. Haha. I hope to slowly get better at drawing and writing because that is what learning is all about. **

**Enjoy this chapter! And welcome all new readers!**

Weeks flew by and before we knew it, our first year in college had come to an end.

It was move-out day, and I was in Miles' room, helping him pack for the trip home.

"Y'know," Miles sighed, turning to look at me from his place on the bed. "I don't remember asking you to help me pack."

"You didn't." I laughed, folding a t-shirt and placing it in his suitcase. "But I know you procrastinate stuff like this, and traffic will not ease up because you were too lazy to get up and pack."

"Mmfph." He rolled over and buried his face into the comforter. "Thanks. I'm happy that's taken care of."

"But pancakes and I make you happier right?" I cooed, cackling as Miles shot up and threw his pillow at me.

"IT WAS A JOKE!"

"Then why is your face as red as a tomato?"

"**Get out**."

He tried to look angry, but his bedhead and Mickey Mouse boxers completely ruined the macho image.

I chuckled to myself as I snapped the suitcase shut and placed it next to his backpack.

"I can't leave just yet; I still need to get you up and dressed. The traffic is terrible, and you need to get on the road soon."

I grabbed his arms and pulled him up, which was quite a feat since he did nothing but be dead weight.

It was a shame Miles' roommate already left since I could've used the extra pair of muscles.

"Dammit, Miles!" I admonished, trying to keep him on his feet as he slouched over my smaller frame. "I'm trying to make your life easier, so work with me!"

"What are you, my mother?" Miles wiggled out of my grip and dived back onto the bed. "Anyways, shouldn't _**you**_ be packing? You're the one who lives in another country, not me."

"I already packed last night, and I told you to do the same but you insisted on playing Super Mario 64 for the entire night while chugging vanilla coke!"

I put my hands on my hips and stared down at the lump I call my best friend, wondering if I should just let him rot here.

The bed creaked as Miles turned over and gazed up at me, that half asleep glaze in his eyes.

"If you're done, then lay here, "He scooted over and patted the space next to him. "Relax, short stack."

"Sorry, but I promised Professor Roskin that I would take inventory of the music room before I leave."

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up so quickly that I was afraid he gave himself whiplash.

"Roskin? Isn't that the dick who picks on you?"

"Yeah. What about him?"

"Why the hell are you doing favors for him? It's his job. Besides, you always complain about how shitty he is."

"I know, but he is my professor, and I am the one who uses that room the most. And I feel like I owe him. It was his letter of recommendation to the Dean that got me accepted into the Honor's program."

Miles shot to his feet, making me stumble back in surprise.

"He is using you as his pack mule. Just because he wrote a letter of recommendation doesn't mean he is the sole reason you got in. No, you worked your ass off, and the Dean would've accepted you regardless of Professor Dickface's input." He crossed his arms and glared at me. "Haven't I told you to cut the weak little girl crap already?"

It was the last part that ticked me off.

"Look, Upshur," I snapped, sticking my finger in his face. "I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself. Regardless of how Roskin treats me, he is my professor, and I was raised to respect my elders whether they like me or not. Professor Roskin may be a scumbag, but he is one of the best music professors at this school, and I want to thank him for what he's taught me. I can't always be like Miles 'Fuck-them-all' Upshur. No, sometimes you have to zip your stupid mouth and let it roll off of you!"

Then there was silence.

It was like the students in the hallway could sense the tension and ceased all chatter.

We scowled at each other, never breaking eye contact or moving a muscle.

Then Miles finally spoke up in a lower whisper.

"Well excuse me for caring."

He stomped into the adjacent bathroom and slammed the door behind him, rattling the window frames.

I stared at the floor, guilt slowly eating away at the anger in my heart.

I know he was just looking out for me, that's all.

"But it's not like I asked you to." I mumbled, settling on Miles' bed and wringing my hands until they were white.

I understood his concern and realized he was just angry, but he didn't have to call me a 'weak little girl'.

I've spent the entire year gaining my independence and learning to overcome my shyness, but my best friend, and the person I admire for his confidence, mistakes my politeness for weakness.

Despite how much I learned to express myself more, I cannot forget eighteen years of being told to respect everyone, good attitude or not.

I laid down and heaved a deep sigh.

In spite of how annoyed he made me, I shouldn't have yelled at him.

No, I should have been the mature one and explained me reasons calmly.

Miles truly is a warm, caring person, but his rough exterior makes his concern sound condescending.

He tries to act cool and aloof, yet he is awkward with expressing his feelings too.

I smiled despite myself at the thought.

"We're not so different when you get down to it, I guess."

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a handmade bear keychain with a microphone in its hand.

Miles' nineteenth birthday is next week, and since I won't be here to celebrate with him, I wanted to give this to him before leaving.

Well, I was going to, but I don't know if I should even bother now.

I stared at the bathroom door for a while before sitting up.

No, we weren't going to see each other again for three months. I don't want this to be our last memory.

Taking a deep breath, I waltzed over to the door and stood there with my fist hovering in front of the chipping, white paint.

However, before I could knock, the door whipped open and there stood Miles, noticeably calmer.

"I'm sorry, (Miles/Young-ja)." We said in unison, surprised with the other's apology.

"It's my fault." He started, ruffling his hair with one hand. "I was out of line."

"No, Miles. It's m-."

"Didn't I _just_ say it was my fault?" He groaned, rubbing his face before placing his hands on my shoulders with a serious expression. "You are not weak, just the opposite in fact. But you are just so damn nice to everyone that I worry about someone taking advantage of you. I know you are doing this because you want, and if the asshole asked you to do something stupid, you would shut him down. But I know the prick doesn't respect you, and that's why I got pissed off. You are so fucking amazing, and you deserve better."

I was stunned, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

Miles immediately turned away, hands covering his reddening face.

"Look what you've done to me," He mumbled, "You're turning me into a fucking sap."

My heart felt like it was about to burst.

Wow, when Miles wanted to be sweet, he really went all out.

Overcome with euphoria, I rushed forward and embraced him, receiving a gasp in return.

"W-what the hell?!" He lifted his arms up, expression a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

"Thank you, Miles." I gazed up at him, tears prickling at my eyes. "That means a lot to me."

He sighed and awkwardly returned the hug, cheeks still pink.

"I just speak the truth, short stack. No need to get emotional on me."

I laughed and backed away, my chest now feeling lighter.

"Well, I realize this is early, but here," I placed the keychain in his hand. "Happy 19th birthday, Miles."

He inspected the bear, turning it this away and that.

"Did you make this yourself?"

"Yes, do you like it?"

"Looks like someone tried to fuck-start its head with a cheese grater."

"Oh, shut up! So what if I'm not that great at sewing. It's the thought that counts!"

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug.

"Thanks, short stack. I'll treasure it."

"You better. It's actually a good luck charm, and you're going to need it."

"Why's that?"

"Because you should've been on the road thirty minutes ago."

"…..Shit."

* * *

**A/N: I had to add that line from the game. When I first read that note, I had to walk away because I was laughing so hard. I LOVE Miles' notes. **


	5. The Absence and Presence of Consent

**A/N: Wow, two chapters in a row! I'm on a roll! I would like to thank EcoSeeker247 and Enigmatic-Elysium for their wonderful reviews and support! I hope my story will continue to please you! And I agree with EcoSeeker247 that Red Barrels needs to release concept art of Miles, and thank you so much for liking my illustrations! Also, if anyone would like for me to draw something for this story, please say so. And you are also free to draw my characters too! I would love to see your interpretations! :D**

**And welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

**-Gunsan, South Korea- (Young-ja)**

"Young-ja." My father poked his head around the corner of the laundry room. "I'm going for a walk. Accompany me."

"Yes, _appa_." I quickly placed the last of the laundry in the washer before following my father to the front entrance.

"Should I grab your hat? Would you like your cane?" I offered, helping my father across the small courtyard and out to the street.

"No, no. I'm fine." He pulled away from me and continued walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

Miles would call that the 'old man pose' and I laughed at the thought of it.

"What is so funny? It is not polite to laugh without reason." He glanced at me, his old gray eyes piercing my soul.

"It's nothing, _appa._ I'm just happy to be home."

He stared at me a while longer before continuing his stroll.

It really was great to be home. The Mugunghwas were in full bloom along the tiny one lane road, giving the air a sweet smell. Children were also playing catch in the courtyards, while the elders played Five Field Kono on the porches.

We reached the end of our street where it connects with the main road, which wasn't any bigger. In America, there are small sidewalks and large roads, while in Korea, there are large sidewalks and small roads.

I guess it's because we are a smaller country and having a car is unwise when there is plenty of public transportation for everyone.

I imagined Miles' confused face at the differences, and I found myself laughing once again.

My father glanced back at me a second time, but he didn't say anything.

His annoyed expression spoke for him anyways.

"I'm sorry, _appa."_ I gave a small bow. "My mind is elsewhere."

He gave a curt nod and continued to scrutinize me for a moment longer.

"So it seems."

As we walked towards the park, I imagined Miles' reaction to my father's grumpy nature.

'Your old man is a pain in the ass, short stack.'

Yeah, he would probably say that.

A group of old ladies passed by us, and I made sure to greet them with a smile.

They were a sweet bunch, telling me how pretty I was and if I wanted some sweets from their handbags while Father watched from a distance.

Eventually we reached the park and followed the trail we've known for years.

We walked in complete silence for a moment before my father halted in place and turned towards me.

"You have changed, Young-ja."

"What do you mean, _appa? _I am the same as always."

I felt my heart rate increase, frightened that I've done something to disappoint him in the three weeks I've been home.

"Don't lie to me, Park Young-ja! You've changed since going to school in America."

Father's legs began to wobble, so I lead him over to a nearby bench and sat down next to him.

"How have I changed, _appa?"_

"You stand with your chin up now. Before leaving for America, you always looked down and never said a word when walking down the street and meeting strangers. Yet, you speak with such ease now, even to your mother and me." He leaned forward and pointed to my eyes. "There is a fire there now. Your eyes were so dull before."

I averted my eyes and cleared my throat.

"Does it bother you,_appa?"_

He didn't say anything, just stared ahead at the duck pond in the distance.

"I don't know," He said after a while. "But I **do** want to know what caused the change, and so does your mother."

I thought back on the past few weeks, recalling all the times Mother and Father whispered behind their hands while staring at me with confused expressions.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to confess the truth.

"I made a friend. He is a sweet boy, a little abrasive at times but sweet nonetheless. He helped me learn to express my feelings clearly without fear. I truly am grateful for that."

His eyes scrutinized me once again, and I felt myself fidgeting under this gaze.

"Do you care for this boy?"

"Of course. He is a dear friend of mine."

"Don't ignore the question, Park Young-ja." His stern voice, though normal, sounded like a scream to me. "I asked if you care for this boy."

I rubbed my knuckles and tried to collect my thoughts, knowing Father hated it when his questions weren't answered immediately.

"The truth, _appa?_" I breathed out with pink cheeks, "Yes, I do care for him quite a bit- no- quite a lot actually."

Father made a grunting noise and turned away, furrowing his brow.

"Do you approve, _appa?"_

"No, I do not approve. This boy has made you happier, but he could interrupt your studies. You were lucky to receive a scholarship to that American college, and all your time should be devote to your studies, not some boy. So, I forbid you from having a relationship with this punk. Am I clear, Park Young-ja?"

I said nothing.

"AM. I. CLEAR?"

"Yes, _appa."_ I sighed.

"Good." Father rose to his feet. "Let's continue our walk."

I nodded and watch him head down the path, waiting for him to be out of earshot before speaking up again.

"I do understand, _appa._ I understand that I like Miles, and it's my damn choice if I want to date him or not."

"Young-ja! Are you coming?"

"Yes, _appa!"_

**-Kansas City, Missouri- (Miles)**

"Dinner is ready, _mio figlio prediletto_!" My mom called from downstairs. "I made your favorite!"

"Be right there, mom!" I responded, shutting off my GameCube before sliding down the banister and into the kitchen.

My mom stood at the stove, pouring Sausage and Lentil soup into three different bowls, humming a tune.

I could see my dad in the adjacent room, shutting off his laptop and organizing his notebooks.

The old man probably had the most boring job in the world, but he loves books like a second child.

"Alright! We are all set." She was about to grab the bowls, but I beat her to them.

"I got it." I balanced the three steaming hot bowls on both arms and transferred them to the dining table, whispering a "Fuck yeah" when I didn't spill a drop.

I turned around and saw my mom staring at me with a look of utter shock.

It reminded me of how short stack pulls the same face when she's surprised, and I chuckled at the thought.

"What's up, mom? Is there shit on my face?"

"No and watch your language, young man." She said in a stern tone. "I'm just surprise. You never offer to bring the dishes to the table. You usually sit there with your feet on the table, tapping away on your mobile calculator."

"Okay, Mom, what kind of calculators have you been looking at recently? This is a phone, and give me a bit more credit. I know I've helped set the table more than once."

"Actually no, Miles." My father laughed, walking into the room and kissing mom on the cheek. "I'm agreeing with your mom on this one."

"You always agree with her!" I groaned, leaning back in my chair and tossing my head back in exasperation.

"Because she is always right."

"IL mio amore." Mom sighed, pulling Dad in for a very wet kiss.

"Good God, get a room, you animals!" I covered my eyes, ignoring their laughter and teasing.

It's bad enough they openly flirt in public, but do they have to gnaw each other's faces at the freaking dinner table?

"You'll be singing a different tune when you fall in love, son." Dad grinned, pulling out a chair for Mom before taking his seat. "But, in all seriousness, what is with the sudden change in behavior?"

"What?" I squinted my eyes, wondering what they were talking about.

I'm no different than I was before leaving for Colorado.

"Well, you have been more helpful around the house, you've been kinder to the neighbors, and most notably, your face is softer."

"My face?" The fuck have they been smoking?

"You used to have such a pinch up face. " Mom smiled, patting my cheek. "Now you have such a relaxed expression and soft skin."

I swatted her hands away and turned back to my dad.

"If I didn't know any better, old timer, I'd say you're seeing things. Nothing's changed about me at all."

"Well, if I didn't know any better, sonny, I'd say you meet someone at college who's influenced you quite a bit."

"W-what?" I stammered, trying not to immediately think of a certain short stack. "You're crazy, old man. Nobody's influenced me at all!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. So lay off." I took a swing of my juice and mumbled to myself, "She hasn't influenced me that much."

I forgot my mom had bat hearing because she started squealing with joy.

"It's a girl?! Oh, _mio figlio prediletto_!" She jumped out of her chair and yanked me into a bone crushing hug. "My little boy finally has a special someone!"

"She is just a friend!" I gasped, forgetting how strong my mom was. "Stop freaking out!"

"Oh, really?" My dad smirked, taking a sip of his champagne. "Then why is your face so red?"

"Because Mom is crushing my lungs!"

"Oh, sorry!" She released me from her death grip, and I collapsed into my chair. "Anyways, tell us about her. What's her name?"

"Young-ja Park, she is a music major." I wheezed out, feeling the oxygen returning to my lungs. "About the same age as me."

"What is she like?"

My mom had such a dreamy expression on her face that I wanted to puke my guts out.

"Well, she is really polite at first, but she is actually pretty sassy deep down. She is a hard worker, but constantly worries about what others may think. She is also a worry wart, like I told her I don't eat lunch all the time, and the next day and every day after that, she brought me a lunchbox filled with whatever she could get her hands on. It is one of the things that annoys me the most about her. Short stack is too nice for her own good. She tells me she can stand up for herself, but really she is all bark and no bite." I sighed and ruffled my hair in frustration. "In short, she is the most frustrating girl I've ever met."

My parents exchanged this sappy look, and I regretted even coming to dinner in the first place.

"Sounds like you like this girl quite a bit."

"Wow, nothing gets past you, Dad. Bless that doctorate of yours."

"When school starts back up, you should ask her out." My mom suggested that sickening smile still on her face.

"Uh, no thank you. We are just friends."

"Well, all relationships start from somewhere, and the best ones usually stem from friendship."

I was about to respond when my dad held his hand up.

"Just think about it. You don't know until you try. Whether it turns out sour or sweet, at least you gave it a shot."

I fiddled with the table cloth, actually considering his advice believe it or not.

"…I'll think about it."

My parents chuckled and continued eating their meals.

Reaching into my pocket, I fished out my phone and inspected the keychain attached to it.

It really was an ugly charm, but the care put into its creation made it beautiful.

I gave a small smile and nodded.

Alright. I'll give it a shot.

**A/N: I just wanted to do a chapter with their parents input. I was raised in Gun-san, so I tried to recreate her neighborhood from experience. The houses are small, but every single one had a gate and a tiny courtyard. And, at least when I was growing up, you always addressed your parents when talking to them. Now for Miles' parents, I saw a picture of a young Sophia Loren and the Prince of Dubai, and I thought to myself, 'If these two had a kid, what would they look like? 'And that is how my mental image of Miles' was created. Haha.**

**Translations:**

**Appa: Father**

**mio figlio prediletto: my beloved son**

**IL mio amore: my love.**

**(I don't know any Italian, so my translations may be rough. I apologize. Hahaha.)**


	6. Birthday

**A/N: Once again, thank you to Enigmatic-Elysium and EcoSeeker247! Your reviews and support are just lovely, and I hope my story continues to please you! Since I've been on a writing spree these past two days, this chapter is pretty short and pretty much a filler since I wanted one more chapter with Young-ja's family. I hope you enjoy and welcome any new readers!**

**-Gunsan, South Korea-**

Before I knew it, July had rolled around, and so did my 19th birthday.

All my relatives were in attendance, bringing gifts and well wishes.

My mother made all the traditional birthday meals: seaweed soup, soba salad, grilled short ribs, lettuce wraps, radish kimchi, bori cha, and nokcha cake.

It was the only time of the year my parents eased up on me, so I tried to soak in all I could.

My cousins ran around the house, pasting hand drawn pictures of me on the walls and asking me constantly if I liked them.

"Are you sure it's pretty?" NaRae, my youngest cousin, asked me for the tenth time.

"It's beautiful, NaRae! So beautiful that I plan to frame it and mount it in the Seoul Museum of Art." I cooed, picking her up and kissing her cheek. "Best birthday present ever."

"What about ours?" The rest of my cousin looked up at me with big eyes and trembling lips.

"They are ALL beautiful! I'm so lucky to be the muse of your breathtaking artwork."

They all cheered and scurried off to tell their parents the good news.

I placed NaRae down, and she wobbled after them, dragging her poor doll down the hallway.

"Young-ja," My aunt poked her head around the corner. "Your _umma_ and _appa_ want to see you in their room."

"Oh, I'll be right there, _imo_." I replied, feeling my mood diminish slightly.

"Aw," She smiled and pulled me into a warm hug. "My brother really is a donkey sometimes. It's a miracle he found someone just like him."

"They just want me to be the best I can be, that's all." I mumbled, savoring the embrace.

My parents aren't the warmest people around and physical contact is rare, so this hug from a family member felt like Heaven.

"You've really grown a lot, sweetheart." My aunt hummed, stroking my hair. "I'm proud of you."

Tears prickled in my eyes, and I tightened my grip briefly before pulling away.

"Thank you, _imo_. I'll be going now."

She nodded and bid me a final "Happy Birthday" as she went to collect her kids.

As I walked towards my parents' bedroom, I gazed outside the window at the full moon and made a wish.

Dear Man in the Moon, please let this year be as wonderful as last year.

I approached the old sliding door and knocked three times, waiting for permission to enter.

"Come in." My mother's voice rang out.

I slid the door open and stepped into the room, making sure to gently close it behind me.

My parents were kneeling on the floor and gestured for me to do the same.

"_Umma, Appa."_ I gave a brief bow before continuing. "You called for me?"

"Yes," My mother cleared her throat and looked at me with the same piercing eyes Father has. "did you enjoy your birthday?"

"Of course. Thank you for cooking and decorating the house for me."

"Did you thank your relatives for coming?"

"Yes. I went to each one and expressed my gratitude."

"Excellent," she gave a small nod of approval. "I'm glad that boy didn't make you forget your manners."

I clenched my fists and bit my tongue.

"His name is Miles Upshur, _umma_. And he-."

"Don't talk back to me, Park Young-ja." Her harsh tone shut me right up, and I bowed in apology.

"Didn't I tell you to forget about that boy?" My father piped in. "Summer break is almost over, and you should be preparing for the coming semester."

"Yes, _appa._ If that is all, may I be excused?"

"Not yet." My mother pulled a small box out of her hanbok sleeve and handed it to me. "Here is your present from your father and me."

"Thank you."

I gently undid the ribbon and lifted the top, finding a beautiful, silver charm bracelet that glittered in the lamp light.

"Keep up the good work, Young-ja."

My heart fluttered as I held the box to my chest.

This was the first time my parents actually gave me something besides school supplies.

"Thank you very much, _umma_. Thank you very much, _appa_."

"You are welcome. You now have permission to leave."

I bowed to them more before slipping out and racing down the hallway to my room.

"Wow," I breathed, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. "This has never happened before. I guess slaving away all year really pays off."

Now with a warm feeling in my chest, I was about to take a shower when my phone started to ring.

The caller ID flashed Miles' number, and I couldn't help the huge grin spreading across my face.

"Hello?"

"Hey, short stack. I didn't miss your birthday, did I?"

"No, we still got thirty minutes to midnight." Then I did the calculations. "It must around early morning where you're at."

"Well, I wanted to say Happy Birthday."

I heard the sound of guitar strings, and my jaw dropped.

"Are you going to sing 'Happy Birthday' to me? I didn't know you played guitar, Miles!"

"I don't. But I figured since you suck at sewing but made me something anyways, I should do the same. Oh, just shut up and listen!"

I giggled and waited while he tuned the guitar and took a deep breath.

_Buon compleanno a te,_

_buon compleanno a te,_

_buon compleanno Young-ja,_

_buon compleanno a te_!

I squealed and clapped until my hands ached.

"Bravo, Miles! Bravo!"

"Was I that good?" I could sense the cocky smirk on his face.

"No, you suck at playing guitar, and you were singing in the wrong key. But it's the thought that counts!"

I buried my face into my pillow to muffle my laughter as Miles cursed and told me to shut my face.

"Seriously though," I sighed, wiping my eyes. "Thank you, Miles. You just made my night."

"Neh. I guess the last five hours of learning guitar chords was worth it if it made you that happy."

I felt my face flush, and my heart clenched in my chest.

"You're a real sweetheart, you know that, Miles?"

"Mmmph."

I could just see the blush on his face, and it brought the smile back to my face.

"Hey, Miles, when we see each other again, there is something I want to ask you."

My parents' opinions be damned. I'm going to ask him out.

"Really? Well, there is something I want to ask you too."

There was a quiver in his voice, and for a brief moment, I thought he was going to ask me out too.

"Is that so? Well, I guess I'll see you soon and we'll talk then."

"Alright. Good night, short stack. And Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, and Good morning to you, Miles."

I hung up and fell back on my bed with a smile.

Looks like this year will be very interesting.

**-Kansas City, Missouri-**

I stared at my phone screen long after our conversation ended.

"I'll get you back for laughing at me, short stack." I chuckled, tossing my phone onto my desk and laying back on my bed.

So she has something to tell me, too. Why do I have a feeling it's the same thing I'm going to say.

A smirk creeped across my face, and I shook my head.

"I guess I'll have to beat her to it."

**A/N: The thought of Miles speaking Italian makes my heart melt. Hahaha. He is actually a pretty good singer, but he just needs some vocal coaching. It is back to college in the next chapter, and I have something to ask you! There will a gathering in the next chapter, and I need to put in some minor characters. If you would like to be in the story, or put one of your OCs in the story, please tell me. Just include their name and describe their personality in a few words. You guys have been so lovely that I would like to do something to really thank/acknowledge you.**

**Translation:**

**Umma: mom**

**Imo: aunt**


	7. Will you?

**A/N: Thank you for all the awesome reviews! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome all new readers! And I changed the cover image for the story! You can access the picture though the same link to the other pictures on my bio. It revolves around "The Red String of Fate".**

After two and a half months, it felt strange to set foot on college soil again.

There was a huge festival going on in town to welcome old and new students alike. Booth and concession stands lined the streets with music blasting from every speaker and excited chatter filling the air.

Once I picked up my new room number from Student Life, I waltzed right over to the Girls' Dorms and unpacked right away.

My roommate was a Philosophy Major named Mary Ann who jabbered a bit too much for my liking but was sweet all the same.

"Do you want to go into town and check out the party?" She asked, grabbing her purse and opening the door.

"No thank you. I want to finish unpacking first. I appreciate the offer though."

"Suit yourself." Mary Ann shrugged before closing the door behind her.

Well, I DO want to go, but there is someone I want to go with.

Every three minutes, I scanned the student parking lot for that familiar red jeep, anxious to see Miles again.

It is funny really. This time last year, I couldn't have cared less.

Now, I care immensely.

Once all my clothes were hung and my desk organized, I decided to text Miles to see where he was at.

But a knock at the door stopped me before I could even reach for my phone.

"Who is it?" I called out, remembering all the stories about attacks on college campuses my parents told me about.

There wasn't an answer.

Getting on my toes, I glanced out the peep hole and was meet with an empty hallway.

Figuring it was a joke, I went back to my business.

Then there was another knock.

"Yes?"

Once again, no answer and an empty hallway.

Starting to get peeved and nervous, I whipped open the door and marched out into the hallway.

"Alright! If you think this is fu-!"

"HEY, SHORT STACK!" Miles pounced at me from around the corner.

"EEYAHH!" I screeched, punching him in the stomach out of instinct.

He blocked my fist, leaning against the wall and laughing his ass off.

"What the hell, Miles?!"

"Oh God, you should've seen your face!" He panted, trying to catch his breath. "Priceless!"

"Jerk! Can't you greet your friends normally?!"

"This is normal, short stack."

Why do I like this guy again?

"Aw, there is that 'angry pufferfish face' I missed so much!" He cooed while squeezing my cheeks, pissing me off more and more.

"Well, I WAS going to invite you to the festival and treat you, but I change my mind." I spun around and stomped back to my room.

"Wait, wait," Miles slid in front of me, waving his hands in a 'calm down' motion. "It was a joke, short stack. Chill out. Hey, I'll tell you what. As an apology, I'LL take you to the festival. My treat."

I leered at him a while longer before taking the arm he offered me.

"Fine. Lead the way, Upshur."

Why do I feel like this is deja vu?

The festival was in full swing by the time we made it to the main road. They even had a small dance off going in the square.

"So, where to first, _cara mia_?"

"What?" I gawked up at his grinning face.

"_Cara mia. _It means 'my dear'."

"Did you hit your head this morning or something?"

Miles was TOO happy for some reason.

He must be hiding something.

Or planning something.

Either way I had to be on my toes.

"How about we go to your favorite café?" He pointed to the cozy, corner café across the street. "They are having a special for students."

"But we are banned from setting foot in there again since you fought that waiter!"

"Hey, he had it coming with the way he was shit talking my parents."

"Yes, the twit had it coming, but you butterfly kicked him across the café! Where did you learn that anyways?"

"Bruce Lee films. Now stop worrying and let's go!" He then led me across the busy street and into the air conditioned café.

I was genuinely surprised it wasn't busy at all since the cakes here are awesome. The interior was really cute too with flowers on each table and plushies scattered around. The two of us would come here twice a week for coffee and sweets before we were kicked out.

"Miles!" I hissed, pulling him down to my level as we approached the hostess desk. "If we get thrown out, I'm blaming you."

"Hakuna your tatas, short stack." He replied before getting the hostess' attention. "Hey, table for two, please."

"Of course, sir. Just one mo-Oh no, not you again! Get out of here before my manager sees you!"

"Watch and learn, short stack." Miles whispered to me before slicking his hair back and leaning against the desk, turning on his charm.

As I watched him work his magic and trick the girl into letting us in with empty compliments, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time.

I felt jealous.

I realized he only does this to get his way and laughs about later, but seeing him bat his eyes at this girl who was hanging onto his every word, it made my stomach churn.

"I-I guess I can bend the rule this once." The hostess stuttered, patting her reddening cheeks. "You two may take that seat in the back, and I'll bring something out for you."

Miles shot me a 'in your face' smirk and led me to the corner booth, humming cheerfully.

"When will you stop doubting my methods of persuasion, short stack?" He spread his arms out, that cocky grin still plastered on his face. "See, I got us a seat AND a free meal."

"Hmm. Yeah. Impressive." I mumbled, shredding a napkin into pieces.

Miles slowly lowered his arms.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Everything's fine." I snapped, hating how I was acting.

What am I, three? He did this for me, and now I'm repaying him by being a jerk.

I just discovered I like Miles, and we're not even dating, so where do I get off acting all jealous when he fake flirts with people?

I sighed and tossed my litter aside.

Well, he's never called me 'beautiful' or anything, and when he does, he covers it up by labeling it as a joke. Maybe it is because he is awkward with his feelings, but if Miles can talk up strangers until they're cherry red with ease, then why can't he do the same with his best friend?

I peeked at Miles from the corner of my eye and felt my heart break a little at the genuine concern on his face.

Since I'm not his girlfriend, I don't have the right to complain. Well, I'm about to change that.

"Miles," I spoke up, making him jump at my sudden outburst. "There is something I want to ask you."

Something flashed in his eyes, and he sat up, placing his hands on the table.

"I have something to ask you too."

"Let me go first."

"No, let me."

"NO, let m-!"

"Here's your chocolate cakes and iced coffees." The hostess smiled, placing our treats in front of us, either blind to our tense expressions or ignoring them entirely.

"Miles." I started in a calm voice. "When we talked on the phone, I was the first one to say that, so let me go first. Then you can go."

"Young-ja." He replied in the same even tone. "What I have to say is just as important, but since I'm the one who initiated this friendship, I'd like to be the one who asks the question."

And with that, I realized he was going to ask me the same thing.

Like hell I'll let him though!

I am the one who just acted like a baby over his flirting, so I want to be the one to ask!

"Miles! Will you go-?!"

"Gah! What did I just say?! Short stack, will you dat-?!"

"I want to say it though!"

"Well, too bad!"

"Miles!"

"Young-ja!"

In all the commotion, we didn't realize our shouts had rattled the table until one of the iced coffees slipped onto Miles' lap.

"Shit!" He gasped, shooting up and shaking the ice cubes off his jeans.

"Miles, I'm so sorry!" I gasped, grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser and attempted to wipe off his jeans.

"It's fine!" Miles snapped, snatching the napkins from my hand and storming off to the bathroom, grumbling under his breath.

I feel back into my seat and covered my face, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

"Kids today really have communication problems." A voice piped up from the booth behind us.

I popped my head around the corner and saw a man in his late thirties sitting there with a condescending grin and mocking gaze. He had round, wireless glasses and shoulder length brown hair that was tied back in a loose ponytail. The man appeared to be a business man of some sort since he was wearing a suit and had a briefcase.

"My apologizes, sir, but this is none of your concern. So mind your own damn business."

I already embarrassed myself twice today; I didn't need this guy to rub it in.

The man raised an eyebrow and chuckled to himself, shaking his head all the while.

Before I could ask him what was so funny, Miles came back.

"Short stack, let's go. We can continue this later." He held his hand out for me and peeked over at the businessman, who was still laughing to himself. "Hey, you got a problem with her or something?"

The man held up his hands in defense, taking a hint from Miles' annoyed expression, but still smiled.

"No problem at all, buddy. Just admiring your little lady's spunk is all. Quite the minx you got there."

Miles' face went from irked to a full on glare.

He pushed me behind him and got in that creep's face, hoisting him up by the collar.

"First off, I'm not your 'buddy.' Second, don't' you **dare** talk about Young-ja like that. If I ever see your face again, I will not hesitate to kick your ass," He then shook the man to emphasize his point. "got it?"

The businessman never wiped that smirk off his face and simply nodded.

"Duly noted,…buddy."

Miles pushed him away and grabbed my hand, storming out of the café.

As we passed by the creep's table, I noticed a name engraved on the suitcase.

Richard Trager.

What an eerie name.

I also made sure to stick my tongue out and flip him off too.

Just to show him how spunky I was.

As we strolled down the street, ignoring the ongoing festivities, no one said a word.

The mood from before had been ruined, and both of us were too tired to start up again.

But we knew that conversation was far from over.

I gazed up at Miles, his profile illuminated in the sunlight, and smiled.

Whatever doubts were bouncing in my brain during my jealously fit were long gone now.

To those people Miles' has flirted with, they can keep those sweet words and promises; I don't need them.

Because actions speak louder than words, and the things Miles does for me outshines everything else.

It doesn't even have to be noble actions like defending me from creepy businessmen.

No, it is the small things like tricking the café hostess simply because he knew the café was my favorite place, and he wanted to make me happy.

Feeling misty eyed, I tighten my grip on Miles' hand and leaned against him, giggling to myself at how he slowly returned the gesture.

"Thank you, Miles."

"For what? If this is about that dickwipe in the café, he had it c-."

"No," I laughed, looking up and meeting his gaze. "Just. Thank you for being you."

**A/N: That Lion King reference came from a Tumblr post I found. Hahaha. And yes, I included him because I love foreshadowing. Don't worry. Miles and Young-ja will start dating soon. Lol. **


	8. At Last

**A/N: Thank you for all the awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome all new readers!**

Things remained the same after the "Welcome Back Festival" back in August. We didn't share any classes this semster, so it was nearly impossible to see each other face to face. And when we managed to snag some private time, someone (nosy professors and roommates) or something (speeding cars or barking dogs) would interrupt us.

I know people probably think, "You two obviously like each other AND acknowledge the mutual feelings! So why don't you date already?!"

Well, it is not that simple. We are friends-best friends- and now that we are letting our feelings grow, we need to sit down and lay everything out before we take the next step. Relationships can only work out if both parties are on the same page and are truly committed.

At least, that is how I feel about it.

Besides, we are still bickering about who gets to ask.

Is it stupid? Yes.

Frustrating? Yes.

But that is how we are going about it.

* * *

In mid-October, after midterms, Miles and I finally had some quality time together. After tossing a few ideas back and forth, we decided to see the new horror movie, "The Ring." Student Life was giving out free tickets for the first fifty students, so we took advantage of it.

The local movie theatre was a tiny place built inside a former beauty salon. There were a total of four different theatres in the building, each featuring a different film. It seemed like "The Ring" was only popular with college students since half of the line consisted of people from our school.

"If you get scared, short stack, feel free to throw your arms around me." Miles teased as we took our seat.

"Pfft." I snorted. "I should be saying the same to you. Trust me, horror movies do nothing to me."

"Putting on the tough girl act, huh?" He snickered, the lights dimming. "Well, my offer still stands."

"Whatever, Miles."

* * *

Later the night, I lay in my bed, burrowed under the blankets and on the verge of slumber.

The movie was actually pretty good. Both Miles and I jumped at a few parts, but we laughed about it on the drive back.

Giving a light chuckle, I was just about to shut my eyes when I heard something tap on the door.

I sat up in bed, listening closely.

Who could it be at this late hour?

When there wasn't another tap, I shrugged and lay back down.

*Tap* *Tap*

I shot straight up, hoping whoever was behind that door had good intentions.

'Please let it be the R.A. giving out free coffee samples again.'

Carefully, I crawled out of bed and tip toed to the door to peek out the peephole.

In the faint hallway light, I could make out a tall figure.

I was about to run back to bed and pull the covers over me when the figure spoke up.

"Short stack, it's me."

I cracked the door open and poked my head out.

Sure enough, it was Miles in his AC/DC t-shirt and Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" I hissed, my heart still beating a thousand miles an hour.

"Well I didn't know if you were asleep or not." He whispered back.

"What do you want, Miles?" I groaned, leaning against the doorway.

"My roommate is out, and I don't want to sleep by myself. Can I crash here tonight?"

Oh you've got to be shitting me.

"Did that stupid movie scare you that much?!"

"Hey, when I went to the bathroom, I thought I saw Samara in the mirror; I nearly crapped myself!"

"Miles, you are a 6'2" man who knows all of Bruce Lee's moves by heart. I think that little girl is more scared of you than you are of her." I was two seconds away from slamming the door in his face and going back to bed.

"C'mon, Young-ja! It is freezing out here! I promise to leave before Mary Ann wakes up."

Remind me again why I decided to place my affections in this boy.

I glared at him a moment longer before opening the door and shooing him in.

"Thank you, short stack. You're a lifesaver."

"Oh shut up and get into bed."

"Actually, I can just lie on the fl-."

"Get. . Into. Bed."

The next three minutes was spent trying to get comfortable in a bed meant for one person.

"Ouch! Get your knee out of my back!"

"Shut up, Miles! You're going to wake up Mary Ann, and it's not my fault this bed was built for Polly Pockets!"

"I told you to let me sleep on the floor!"

"And what if Mary Ann wakes up in the middle of the night and steps on you by accident? You could get hurt, and I'll get in trouble!"

"Well anything is better than having your foot up my-Wait, you are actually concerned for my safety when I'm trespassing in your room? How sweet, short stack."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

* * *

You know in those romantic movies and novels when two people share a bed, and they wake up all snuggled together and everything is beautiful?

That is a load of horseshit.

I woke up to find myself mashed against the wall with no blanket, while Miles was stretched out over the entire bed with the blanket to himself.

"Jerk." I grumbled to myself, turning over and shaking his shoulder. "Miles, wake up. You need to go back to your room."

He swatted me away and turned over, snoring away.

"Oh no you don't." I climbed on top of him and began poking his face nonstop.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, w-."

"Ngh! Dammit stop!" Miles grabbed my hand and opened his eyes, annoyance clear in them. "What the hell, short stack?"

"It is seven in the morning. Mary Ann wakes up at 7:05. You need to **get up** and **go**."

"Mhm. Fine." He sighed, rubbing his face before looking up at me. "Any particular reason why you're sitting on my chest?"

"I had to wake you up somehow, you lazy bum."

He gave a light chuckle and reached up to grasp a lock of my hair.

"Nice bedhead, by the way."

"Be quiet," I huffed, a light blush forming across my cheeks. "Anyways, hurry up and go."

"Not yet. There is one more thing I want to ask you." He hummed, twirling the lock of my hair around his finger.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"What is it? Do you want breakfast in bed too?"

"No, I want to ask you to be my girlfriend."

I froze in place and leered at the man beneath me.

The jerk beat me to it.

I averted my eyes, not expecting him to pop the question so suddenly.

"Your answer, _cara mia_?" Miles inquired, that cocky smirk on his face.

I fumbled to formulate a coherent sentence when something clicked in my brain.

That smirk. That nickname.

**That bastard**.

"Jerk!" I screeched, hitting him with a stuffed animal. "You were never scared of that movie! You just wanted to spend the night so you could ask the question first!"

"A gold star for Ms. Park!" He cackled, grabbing the stuffed rabbit and tossing it across the room. "Though she has unmasked my evil plan, I have yet to hear her answer."

I glared at him with all my might before cracking a smile and poking his nose.

"Of course, you dolt."

"Then I promise to treat you well, my dear." He kissed the back of my hand. "I'm now the luckiest guy on Earth."

"Getting cavities from all the sweet crap you're puking out?" I teased, though the kiss on the hand did make my heart do a flip.

"My teeth are rotten actually, but it is worth it if it makes you happy."

My cheeks flushed a deep red, but I giggled when I saw Miles' do the same.

"Shit that was cheesy."

"It was," I admitted, "but it did make me happy."

"Then it was worth it. But don't expect me to spew all this gooey crap every time we meet. "

I laughed and peeked over at the clock.

"Oh crap, we have a minute before Mary Ann wakes up!"

I was about to crawl off him, but Miles held me in place with an impish grin.

"Will my beautiful girlfriend grace her stupid boyfriend with a kiss first?"

Oh my gosh, our first kiss.

Why did it have to been when my hair is a mess, and I have morning breath?!

I gulped and slowly nodded.

"Um, sure."

I leaned forward, my lips getting closer to his.

My heart was pounding so loudly that I swore everything in the dorm could hear it.

I could feel his breath on my lips, and I closed the gap between us.

Well, I would've if Mary Ann's alarm didn't go off.

"Shit!" I smacked my hand over Miles' mouth and launched myself off of him.

"Wh-?!"

I shushed him and covered him with the blanket and all of my stuffed animals.

"C-can't breathe!"

"Suck it up," I whispered to him just as Mary Ann opened her eyes.

"Hmm, Young-ja?"She yawned, stretching her arms. "You're up early."

"Y-yeah." I tried to keep my tone even. "I was going to do some studying. It is never too early to learn something new."

"You're such a nerd." She crawled out of bed, strutted to the closet and grabbed a change of clothes. "Well, I'm going to take a shower."

"Enjoy it!" I smiled, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"Um, I guess I will?" Mary Ann made her way to the bathroom. "Enjoy your studying then."

"Oh I will."

She shook her head and locked the door behind her.

The second Mary Ann was gone, Miles threw the blankets and dolls off him and took a big gasp of air.

"Are you trying to suffocate me?!"

"Hey, you're lucky I acted quickly. If she caught sight of you, we'd be in so much tr-."

"Young-ja?"

I slammed the blankets back on Miles' face at lighting speed and faced Mary Ann with a smile.

"Yes?"

"Could you pick up some more towels from Student Life? We are almost out."

"Of course! I'll get right on that!"

"Thank you." Then she locked the door once again.

I waited a few seconds before lifting the blanket.

"Sorry about that. Did I hit your eye? Looks like it hurts."

"No it **tickles**." Miles moaned, clutching the left side of his face. "Of course it hurts, genius."

"Let me see." I leaned forward and tried to move his hand, worried I gave him a blackeye.

"Sike!" He pulled me onto the bed and trapped me in his arms. "Haha, you are my prisoner now!"

"Miles!" I shrieked, trying to wiggle myself out. "You liar!"

"Consider it payback." He laughed. "First, you tease me with an almost kiss. Second, you try to suffocate me under a Hello Kitty blanket. And now, you punch me in the eye!"

"I said I was sorry. Grow up, Miles!"

"But sorry doesn't make me feel better. Instead, how about a-."

I pecked him on the lips, laughing at the pure shock on his stupid face.

"Consider it payback."

"Rude." He smiled, cupping my face in his hands. "You call that a kiss? Let's try that again, shall we?"

He pulled me in once again, and we had our first proper kiss.

People say you see sparks or hear angels sing when you kiss someone, but that wasn't true for this.

There was no fireworks or romantic soundtrack, but this warmth that spread throughout my body.

Warmth like hugging a loved one after a long trip or cuddling next to a fireplace on a snowy day.

That is the only way to truly describe it: warm and comforting.

Slowly, we pulled away, red faced with big goofy grins.

"Feel better now?" I smirked.

"Much better, but another kiss wouldn't hurt."

I covered my lips with my hand and snickered at his vexed expression.

"Not so fast, Miles. Mary Ann is not going stay in that shower forever, and now that we are dating, there are several factors that need to be addressed."

"Like what?"

"Like meeting the parents, genius."

"…..Oh, crap."

**A/N: Now it is time to meet the parents!**


	9. Traveling with Miles

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and favorites! You guys are awesome, and I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome all new readers!**

Since Miles' parents were the closest, we decided to visit them first during Thanksgiving Break.

When Miles called his parents to tell them we were coming to visit, I could hear his mother's squeals of delight from the across the room and snickered at Miles' petrified expression.

It was a nine hour drive from the college to Kansas City, so we left at four in the morning to get a head start and beat traffic.

I was worried about Miles since he isn't a morning person, but he showed me his bag of Red Bull and told me he would be fine.

'Yeah, until you crash from all that caffeine.'

It was times like this when I wished I had my license. I never bothered to get it because everything I needed was in walking distance from the college, and the bus took me to the airport and back.

"Are you sure you'll be fine? I'd rather arrive at your house later and safe, than earlier and in a wreck."

"Have some faith in me, short stack." Miles reached towards the passenger's side and ruffled my hair. "I've made this trip millions of times."

His words of encouragement did nothing to quell my fears, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"But, I promise to pull over and rest if I start to feel sleepy."

My heart warmed at his consideration for my feelings, so I leaned over and kissed his cheek as a reward.

Miles' face turned beet red, and we almost ran off the road, scaring the hell out of both of us.

"And you accuse **me** being an accident waiting to happen." He grumbled, face still quite red.

"Well I didn't expect you to freak out!" I scoffed, thankful that no one was behind us.

It had only been a few weeks since we started dating, and while things were going great, we still were adjusting to the random displays of affection.

Not that we didn't like them, but every time one would kiss/hug the other, our faces would burn up and our knees would buckle.

Miles denies all of this, but I kissed him once on the main stairway in the library, and he almost fell down two flights of stairs.

That and what happened just now proves he's just as much a 'dork in love' as I am.

That's one of the things I like about him though.

* * *

Once we got out of the city, it was just a straight road of farmland and open fields into Kansas.

All the beautiful scenery and lack of buildings was breathtaking at first, but after three hours of the same thing, I started to get antsy, and my legs grew stiff.

Miles, for how impatient he usually was, seemed to be enjoying himself, drumming his fingers along to the radio and humming songs he knew.

"Can we stop soon? I need to stretch my legs before they snap off." I moaned, trying to rub some feeling back into them.

"If you don't take your feet off my dashboard, I'm not doing shit," was his only reply.

Jerk.

I did as he 'requested' and, fifteen minutes later, he pulled the Jeep into a Dairy Queen parking lot.

"Freedom!" I whimpered as I basically launched myself from the car and onto the pavement, hopping up and down to suppress the static in my legs.

"Not used to long car rides, short stack?" Miles chuckled, locking the doors and pulling out his wallet. "Since we're here, want to grab a bite?"

"Sure," I replied, hopping after him like some hyperactive Energizer Bunny. "Can we eat standing up though?"

* * *

After we placed our orders and picked up our trays from the pick-up window, the two of us settled in a cozy booth and dug in.

"One bite at a time, Miles," I chided, observing my boyfriend tear into his burger like a starved animal.

"Don't tell me how to live my life." He responded in between bites, ketchup smearing all over his stupid face.

I shook my head and took a spoonful of my Cotton Candy Blizzard, savoring the sweet taste.

"That any good?" Miles asked, wiping the remains of the fallen off his cheeks.

"Yeah, want a taste?" I scooped some up and held the spoon out.

Instead of taking the spoon, he opened his mouth and pointed to it.

"Such a child." I grumbled as I fed him anyways, sticking my tongue out when he gave me that infuriating smirk.

"I hope you get a brain freeze, you dolt."

"Such sweet words, _cara mia_, such sweet words."

* * *

Once we got back on the road, it was around 10:30 a.m., which meant we would be in Kansas City in a few hours.

I started to feel a bit anxious at the thought of meeting Miles' parents face to face.

"Do you think your parents will like me?"

"What do you mean?" Miles inquired, turning down the radio. "Of course they will like you. Heck, you haven't even talked to them, and they already love you."

"But that is because it's you talking about me. You probably tell them all these amazing things about me."

"Actually," He sing songed. "All I've told them is how much of a goody two-shoes you are, and how frustrating you can be."

"Wow, way to flatter your girlfriend, Miles."

"Just telling the truth." He shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Anyways, stop worrying. My parents will adore you. And even if they don't, their opinions won't matter since there is someone who adores you above all."

"Who is that?" I asked, trying to hide my smile at what I knew was coming next. "You?"

Miles' face went completely red, and he banged his head against the steering wheel.

"No, Jesse McCartney. Of course it's **me**, you twit! Obviously!"

I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore, and I erupted into giggles.

"Why the hell are y-?!" Then it finally dawned on him, and his face became a brighter shade of red. "You little-! Why do you always trick me into saying mushy crap?!"

"I don't trick you!" I cackled, dodging the candy wrapper he threw at me. "You say it on your own, you big ball of fluff!"

He hit his head against the steering wheel again before focusing back on the road, his face still a bright shade of red.

I chuckled at his pouting face and leaned over to kiss his cheek once again, keeping the steering wheel in place this time.

"Thank you for cheering me up, Miles."

"Oh, shut up and listen to the radio."

**A/N: Okay, how I am doing the "Meet the Parents" area is that there will be a traveling chapter and a meeting chapter. However, the Upshur Family chapters will be from Young-ja's point of view, and the Park family will be from Miles' point of view. I'm doing this because I want to express what the other is thinking as they are about to meet their girlfriend/boyfriend's parents. That and I want to some chapters on their budding romantic relationship. Oh, and I understand Young-ja's pain since I am currently traveling across the U.S. and have been stuck in a van for six hours. *sobs***


	10. Meeting the Upshurs

**A/N: Thank you for the awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you. And I welcome any new readers! AND LOOK AT MY PROFILE! MY SISTER MADE ME OUTLAST FANART FOR MY BIRTHDAY, AND SHE DREW SUCH A HOT MILES!**

The bare countryside soon morphed into a cityscape, saving me from going completely insane from the redundant view.

"Welcome to Kansas City, Missouri" said a colorful sign with a rainbow on it.

I was just so happy to see civilization again, that I began singing and dancing:

_I'm going to Kansas City_

_Kansas City here I come_

_They got a crazy way of loving there_

_And I'm gonna get me some_

"Nice Little Richard impersonation, short stack." Miles laughed, as he turned down a busy street. "Quiet the gift you got there."

"Well, Little Richard's version is my favorite, but Wilbert Harrison was the original singer who was famous for his blues style."

"Really? Learn something new every day, I guess. Glad my girlfriend is a walking music encyclopedia."

"Your words touch me, Miles. Truly."

* * *

The streets were bustling with activity from shoppers to food trucks, and lights glittered from every building.

"Wow," I breathed, rolling down the window and poking my head out when we reached a stoplight. "This place is gorgeous! Why didn't you go to college here?"

"Because," Miles started, yanking me back inside when traffic started moving again. "spending eighteen years of your life in a crowded city becomes suffocating."

"I guess I can't really relate. Gunsan is a village compared to this place." I watched him take another turn and something occurred to me. "Hey, didn't you say your house was in the middle of the city?"

"Yeah, but I'm not taking you to my house yet. Since we are close by, I want to show you where my dad works."

"He is a librarian right? Must be where you get your smarts from." I smiled, enjoying how Miles tried to hide how pleased he was to hear me praise his father.

"The old man just read to me a lot as a child." The jeep halted to a stop, and Miles pointed across the street. "There it is."

Holy crap, it was huge! The place easily took up a whole block, but its most defining feature was its design. The library looked like a freaking bookshelf! A huge bookshelf!

"If I were you, I would've stayed for the library alone!" I squeaked, itching to kick the door open and race across the street.

"It's nothing special once you get used to it." Miles glanced at me and laughed. "I think we should leave now. You look about ready to take off."

"If it was a musical building, I'd already be gone before you parked!" I teased, staring at the beautiful building as the Jeep pulled away from the curb.

"Yeah, that's just how I would want to spend my day: chasing my dorky, 5'3" girlfriend around the city where she could get lost or kidnapped."

"You know I love it when you get all cute and protective, but _who_ won our last arm wrestling tournament?" I snickered, emphasizing the 'who'.

"I told you, I was having an off day! You just got lucky."

"Awww, don't worry, Miles. You're still my big, tough teddy bear."

* * *

"Oh, you got to be shitting me." Miles groaned, covering his face as we sat in the Upshur residence driveway.

Hanging from the front porch was a banner that screamed in big, bold letters: WELCOME TO KANSAS CITY, YOUNG-JA AND OUR BABY BOY!

I was speechless to say the least.

On one hand, I was embarrassed, yet I was also….well, delighted. No one has ever welcomed me home with such flair and excitement.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I felt the Jeep backing out of the driveway.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to Colorado, or out of the country. I'll decide in a few minutes."

"C'mon, Miles," I pulled the gear shift into park and held his hand in mine. "if there is anyone who should be fleeing ,it should be me. Even with this banner, I'm still scared about meeting your parents. But you know what? I want to meet them. Why? Because they gave me you." I grinned at his wide-eyed, flushed face and leaned over to kiss him. "So, shall we go?"

"Give me five minutes." Miles pulled me in for another kiss, burying his fingers in my hair. "Scratch that, make it fifteen."

This boy is so strange and indecisive. When we kiss, he will either shy away or turn into the thirst monster; there is no in between.

Dorkface.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, we stood on the Upshur residence porch, staring at the front door.

It really was a beautiful house, not too fancy or too plain. It also had two-stories and was made of bricks, giving it a sturdy appearance.

"It's your house. You knock." I whispered, hiding behind him.

"What was all the big talk in the car? You wanted to thank my mother's ovaries, and my father's one lucky sperm, so you knock on the door!"

I was about to fire back a response when I heard someone inside the house.

"Miles?" A woman's voice called out. "Is that you?! Kamal, they're here!"

"Brace yourself." He murmured to me as the door flew open and the beautiful woman from Miles' wallet stood before me.

"_Mio figlio prediletto_!" His mother shrieked, yanking him into a spine crushing hug.

"H-hi, mom." Miles gasped, his fingers twitching. "I need air!"

"Sorry." She laughed, turning to look at me. "Oh my! You must be Young-ja!"

It was now my turn to have my spine crushed as Miles cackled from a safe distance.

"You are so beautiful! My son has wonderful taste!" Mrs. Upshur then grabbed the both of us and shooed us inside. "You must be exhausted from the trip. Please, have a seat in the living room, and I'll bring you some snacks."

With a shrug, Miles led me to the living room, while Mrs. Upshur scurried away to the kitchen, humming a song.

* * *

"Your mother is really sweet." I pointed out as we settled on the couch. "And she runs a café, right? I'm sure her cooking is delicious."

"Yeah, she is great." He scooted closer to me. "I never had a boring lunchbox in school to say the least."

"Hehe, and where is your father? Is he at the Magical Mystery Library?"

"Nah, he is probably up in his office, finishing up some work. He'll be down soon."

I nodded, noticing Miles had his arm around my shoulder.

"If you are looking to continue what happened in the car, you're going to have to wait."

Miles gasped, pretending to look offended.

"Why I never, Young-ja! Here you are, accusing me of trying to make a move on you in my parents' living room!" He sighed dramatically, draping his arm over his forehead. "I'm baffled!"

"But you were!" I retorted, giggling into my palm.

"I wasn't denying it though." He smirked, tugging me into his arms and blowing raspberries on my neck.

"Miles! T-that tickles!" I shrieked, laughing as he started to tickle my sides too.

"Alas! I cannot when you sound and look so damn adorable!" Miles then ceased his attack and placed me on his lap, his hands on my hips. "Makes me what to kiss you."

Instead of responding, I rested my hands on his shoulders and locked our lips, forgetting about where we were and who might walk in.

Miles made a sound of approval and began slowly rubbing his hands down my thighs.

I've said before that we were still awkward about showing affection.

Well, this is one of the consequences of being too modest: a rare moment where the shyness is forgotten and a simple kiss is morphed into a make-out session.

Just as we started getting into it, someone cleared their throat, and we immediately broke apart.

The handsome man from the wallet was leaning against the doorway, a smirk on his face that resembled Miles'.

"Oh don't mind me, kids. Just remember to use protection."

"Dad!" Miles shouted, his face as red as mine.

'Oh God, please strike me down here and now.'

It was also at the precise moment when Mrs. Upshur walked into the room with a tray of sandwiches.

"Oh my, did I miss something?" She asked innocently, wondering why Miles and I were covering our faces in shame.

"It's nothing, darling." Mr. Upshur chuckled, taking the tray from his wife. "Nothing at all. Come, let's eat."

* * *

As we ate Mrs. Upshur's food, Miles and I refused to make eye contact and sat on opposite sides of the sofa.

"What is wrong, you two?" She had this heartbroken look on her face. "You were being so friendly earlier."

"You have no idea how friendly." Mr. Upshur said under his breath, laughing at the glare from Miles he received.

"All joking aside though," Mr. Upshur sat up straight, a serious look on his face. "We're happy to finally meet you, Young-ja. "

"Ah!" I gasped, bowing at the waist. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. and Mrs. Upshur."

"Discard the formalities." Mrs. Upshur grinned, waving her hand. "You can just call us Sophia and Kamal."

"A-are you sure? We just meet and all."

"Yes, it is fine," Kamal reassured me, "But, with the way Miles always talks about you, it feels like we've known you for years."

I glanced at Miles who just continued to cover his burning face.

"You seem like a sweet and polite girl. Plus, you've taught our knucklehead of a son a thing or two about caring for others." Kamal and Sophia beamed at each other, nodding in unison. "So, you have our blessing."

A weight lifted off my shoulders, and I sighed in relief.

"Thank you very much!" I bowed once again. "I promise to treat your son well, and..well, thank you for bringing him into this world."

The two of them busted into hysterics, making me feel like an idiot.

"You are so precious!" Sophia kissed both of my cheeks before standing up. "I'll go prepare the guest room for you!"

"Ah, thank you very much!" I called after her.

"Miles," Kamal stood up, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "If you decide to sneak into Young-ja's room tonight, give me a heads up, so I can put in ear plugs."

"DAD!"

**A/N: Despite how sweet and innocent I like to make them, Miles and Young-ja are teenagers, and they have dem horomones! Haha. Next up is Young-ja's family! And seriously, look up Kansas City Public Library. It is so cool! AND LOOK AT MY SISTER'S PICTURES! THEY ARE GLORIOUS!**


	11. Traveling with Young-ja

**A/N: Thank you for the awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome any new readers! And thank you so much for loving my sister's pictures! She drew Miles exactly as I imagined him. So sexy. Lol. And thank you for the birthday wishes! **

Due to time constraints, we couldn't see short stack's parents until during spring break.

On the way to the airport, she kept warning me about them, saying "Don't smile randomly because they consider that rude" or "Please don't play loud music in the house; they are prone to migraines."

My response was "Why don't I just lie in the corner and photosynthesize?"

I already had a 13 hour flight to look forward to, and short stack's 'kind warnings' weren't helping at all.

I parked the jeep in the designated area, hoping nothing would happen to my baby while we were gone. Short Stack told me to pack light, so all I had was a small suitcase and my carry-on bag.

"I'll carry your bag." I offered while taking her bag anyways.

"But I'll have nothing to carry then!" She pointed out, giving me at angry pufferfish look.

"Exactly!" I smirked, taking her hand in my free one before walking towards the airport entrance.

After our little make-out session back during Thanksgiving, I've gotten better at being affectionate without blushing at every damn thing. Of course, it is still pretty fucking difficult when she looks at me with those big brown eyes and that damning smile, and not burn up.

When did everything about the short stack become so appealing? Two years ago, she was just another face in the crowd, and now, the sight of her makes me weak in the knees.

That temptress.

"Miles?" Short Stack's soft voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Yeah?"

"You're about to walk into a wall."

* * *

Once all the security clusterfucks were done, the two of us settled in on the plane, waiting for takeoff.

I gazed around the plane's interior, impressed by the food carts and foldable trays, while Short Stack was the definition of flight veteran with a blank face.

"Is the chow on the plane any good?"

"It's not that bad. Nothing five star gourmet, but it'll do."

I was about to respond when the flight attendant's voice came on the intercom.

"Good evening, passengers! Please fasten your seatbelts and remain in yours seats during takeoff."

'Y'know, Short Stack." I started while buckling up. "This is my first time on a plane."

"Really now. Well then, I guess you are really excited."

"Oh, I was, but not anymore."

"Why's that?"

"Because plane takeoffs scared the shit out of me."

"….Oh, crap."

It was at that moment the plane started moving, and I tighten my grip on her hand.

"Young-ja," My voice shook a little. "I believe this is well within my rights as your boyfriend to ask you to hold my hand."

"I'm here for you." She winced as my grip tighten. "But, you'll be fine. I promise!"

The plane started to rise off the ground, and I swear I felt my soul leave my body.

"Miles!" Young-ja took my face in her hands, ripping her limp hand from my iron grip in the process. "Just look into my eyes until we're up in the air, alright?!"

I did as she requested, and I felt myself slowly calm down.

"Feeling better?" She asked once my muscles relaxed.

"Yeah. Thanks, short stack."

"You're welcome." She laughed and pecked me on the lips. "But you could've told me earlier. I would've canceled the trip immediately ."

"But that wouldn't be fair. You hate long car rides but came to see my parents anyways for their blessing. I want to do the same. Regardless of whether they'll hate me or not, they still are your parents and I want to make a good impression."

Short Stack flushed a dark red, and I did a mini mental victory dance since the tables had now turned.

"Anyways," I continued, taking her hand in mine again. "I'd like to thank them too for bring you into my life. As cheesy as this may sound, my life wouldn't be the same without you."

She buried her face in my chest, the heat from her cheeks radiating through my jacket.

'Mission Accomplished.' I fist pumped.

"You're such a cheeseball, Miles Upshur." Her voice was muffled, but I still could detect the embarrassed tone.

"Only for you, short stack. Only for you."

* * *

Five hours into the flight, and I was bored out of my mind.

At least during car trips you can see the passing scenery and get out when you want; all you could do on airplanes was watch the in-flight movie and sleep.

The only good thing about this trip was that I had the aisle seat so I could stretch my legs, and the company I had.

I glanced over at short stack who was writing something in her songbook.

'Probably another song. Her brain is always composing something.'

Young-ja really is an amazing young woman. Name a band or a symphony, and she'll tell you everything about it. This girl truly lives and breathes music. I admire her determination to know everything about her major, but I feel that is her parents' influence. One time during a study date, I was trying to get her to take a break and cuddle with me on the sofa, but the shrimp kept telling me "Sorry, Miles. I have to study. I need to do my best on this assignment." Then she told me her parents receive reports from the college about her progress, and if she didn't have high marks, they would basically disown her.

'Yesh,' I thought to myself. 'She is already in the Honor's Program, get off her back!'

The only good thing about this is that music is Young-ja's passion, so it comes easily to her.

Still, I wish she would stop doing this for her parents and for herself instead. I also wish she would stop working herself to death and stop to the smell the roses once in a while.

Regardless, I love her for all she is and isn't.

Yes, **love**.

These past two years as friends, and now a couple, have made me realize I love Young-ja. It wasn't a romantic epiphany at all. During Christmas break, we went to IHOP for the breakfast special. Both of us were half-asleep and dressed like bums since we stayed up all night watching  
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns. She sat across from me with frizzy hair, an oily face, and bags under her eyes, and I thought to myself 'Dammit, I love this girl." Originally, I thought it was nonsense from the lack of sleep, but as I become more conscious, I realized my feelings were legit. Then I proceeded to squeal like a fucking teenage girl into my palms while Young-ja stared at me like I was insane. That is why this trip is so important. If I receive the Parks blessing, then I will confess to her. If I don't, I plan to confess anyways. To be honest, I don't give a shit if they like me or not, but I know it would mean the world to Young-ja if they did.

Pulling myself out of memory lane, I yawned and laid down on her lap, halting her movements.

I gazed up at her, watching her try to look annoyed but ended up laughing and leaning down to kiss my nose.

'Every single kiss you give me drives the arrow deeper. And every witty remark and irritated gaze keeps it there.' I intertwined our fingers and kissed the back of her hand. 'I'm in love with you, short stack.'

**A/N: Yup, Miles is in L-O-V-E! I really wanted to write a chapter about Miles' thoughts. I believe he is a hardass, but when he cares about someone, he gets all gooey and sweet! Next chapter we meet Young-ja's parents! And, since I like to listen to music when I write, give me some songs to listen to! I would love to hear them, and let them inspire me! :D**


	12. Meeting the Parks

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome any new readers! And thank you Enigmatic-Elysium for the songs! They were pretty cool and gave me some ideas for upcoming chapters!**

After 13 grueling hours of trying to sleep in a chair meant for people less than 5'5", the plane landed in Incheon International Airport.

I left the formalities with security to Short Stack and observed all the unfamiliar surroundings. All of the signs and announcements were in Hangul, and it made me feel a bit exposed. Although, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I spotted a McDonalds near the bathrooms.

"_Gamsahabnida_." Short Stack smiled at the security guard, before telling me we could go get our bags. (*thank you)

Korean really is a beautiful language, even better when it comes from her mouth.

'I wonder if she feels the same when I speak Italian….'

"Miles!" She held out her hand. "C'mon! I don't want to lose you in the crowd."

"Coming!"

* * *

Once we grabbed our bags, we caught the shuttle bus to Gunsan.

"It is a two hour trip, so feel free to take a nap." Short Stack informed me as we sat in the back. "I know you didn't get any sleep on the flight over."

"Sweet!" I collapsed onto her lap, sighing in bliss as I stretched my legs out. "Wake me up when we get there."

"As you wish."

In the back of mind, I wondered if she was referencing "The Princess Bride" but brushed the thought aside as wonderful slumber finally claimed me.

'To whoever is up there, don't let this trip blow up in our faces.'

* * *

"Miles." Short Stack's sweet voice coaxed me out of my slumber. "Time to wake up. We're here."

"Mhmm." I groaned, wishing for another hour or five of sleep. "Alright, let's go."

The bus station was bustling with activity, more so than the airport.

"Do you want to eat something first?" Short Stack asked me, hailing a taxi. "I know a great ramyeon place nearby."

"Nah. We should go to your house first, since your parents probably want to meet their daughter's boyfriend and all."

"Um, about that." Her expression turned sour, and I felt something heavy settle in the bottom of my stomach. "I told them you were coming with me, but…um, I didn't say you were my boyfriend."

I just stared down at her, stuck between reassuring her and wanting to throw the luggage into the busy street.

When I finally found my voice, I just said, "You increased this trip's difficulty by a fuckload, didn't you?"

She shot me a glare and punched my arm.

"Well I couldn't tell them on the phone! They never would've agreed to see us, and I'd probably be sent back here against my will! I was just hoping that if we both told them, maybe they will consent to our relationship! It's not like I wanted to keep it a secret or was embarrassed by you! I ju-!"

I swooped down and kissed her hard on the lips, drawing attention from the crowd nearby.

When I pulled away, I smiled and told her I wasn't upset.

"I understand your reasons, Young-ja. I keep forgetting your family is different than mine, and I shouldn't have said that when you are already freaking out about this."

Young-ja shyly nodded, taking my hands in hers.

"I just want them to like you. That's all. Good or bad, they are still my parents, and their opinion matters to me."

"They will **love** me." I smirked, resting my forehead against hers. "I'm Miles Upshur, after all."

"Such a dork." She laughed, looking like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Come on, we've kept the cab waiting look enough."

* * *

The taxi stopped in front of a small house with a gate and tiny courtyard. I think these types of houses are called hanoks or something.

Short Stack stared at the gates like they were the entrance to Hell and took a deep breath before unlocking them.

The courtyard was very neat and tidy, giving me an idea of the two adults inside.

'This is going to be _lots_ of fun.'

We stepped up onto a porch and took our shoes off in front of the sliding door.

"Please, let this go smoothly." She whispered to herself as she rang the doorbell.

Not a moment later, the door slide open to reveal two very pissed off looking old people.

They were so short, even shorter than Young-ja, that I couldn't help but snicker at them.

'They look like angry moles!'

"Young-ja." Her father stated, not greeted, in a cold tone before turning to me. "And you must be Miles Upshur."

"Yes, sir." I bowed, trying to start off on the right foot. "It is a pleasure to meet you and your wife."

"Come inside" was his reply, and the old mole walked away with his wife in tow.

"Did I do something wrong?" I whispered as we followed them, but Young-ja just gestured for me to shut up.

They lead us to an empty room with four mats on the ground; we each took a seat on one.

"So," Her mother spoke up this time. "You are the boy who's caught Young-ja's eye. What is your major exactly?"

"Journalism, ma'am."

"And what do you plan on doing with a degree like that?"

"I plan on becoming an investigative journalist."

"Hmm." The old bag turned her nose up at me. "If you were majoring in something worthwhile, I would understand her interest in you. Yet, since you are not, I fail to see the appeal."

"Now listen here, y-!" Young-ja elbowed me in the side. "I mean, well, that is your opinion, but it is my passion, so I plan to do what I like."

"Well, Mr. Upshur," Her father joined the conversation. "I hope our daughter has told you that she is forbidden from pursuing you."

I clenched my fists.

"She has, Mr. Park. Several times in fact."

"Then I hope you unders-."

"But, you never said anything about me pursuing her."

"Wh-?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Park, Young-ja and I are dating." Bam.

The room went dead silent. Young-ja's parents' expressions were a fine mix of shock and fury. I peeked over at Young-ja and saw her shaking, so I reached over and took her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb against her knuckles.

It was Mrs. Park who finally broke the silence.

"H-How dare you! You've brainwashed our daughter, haven't you?! We should've never let her go back to the States!"

"Umma.." Young-ja whispered, her grip tightening.

Then her father joined in.

"Park Young-ja, we forbid you from going back to the States. If that country is making you ignore our wishes and keep terrible company, then you have no business there."

"Appa.." Her voice quivered, and I spotted tears running down her cheeks.

I snapped.

"Alright, you fuckwads!" I shot up. "You have no right to treat your daughter this way! She is not a doll, but a human being with feelings and the freedom to do whatever the fucks she wants. Did you know Young-ja has the best grades of the entire sophomore class?! It's because she works her ass off to make you happy! Young-ja doesn't deserve this kind of abuse! She is the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I love her so fucking much!"

Before I could blink, Mr. Park smacked me across the cheek, sending me straight to the ground.

"Fuck off, old man." I hissed, wiping away blood from my lips.

"Listen here, boy! Have you no respect?!"

He raised his hand again, but before he could land a blow, Young-ja jumped in front of him.

"STOP IT!" Her scream echoed through the room.

"Park Young-ja!" Her mother gasped. "What do you th-?!"

"Shut up, both of you! Miles is right! For nineteen years, I've done nothing but what you asked! When I met him, he taught me how to live how I want and not care what others think. He is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'll be damned if I let you hurt him!" She reached down and pulled me to my feet. "**My boyfriend** and I will be leaving now! If you ever feel like pulling your heads out of your asses, you know how to reach me."

'Oh fuck,' I thought with a red face. 'I love this woman. Take me! Take me here and now!'

As she pulled me from the room, I whipped around and whispered, "Suck it!", enjoying their dumbfounded expressions.

* * *

Once we were outside, Young-ja collapsed against me, breathing hard and sweating bullets.

"That didn't go as I planned." she panted. "Do you think I went overboard?"

"Fuck no! Have I told you you're sexy as hell when you're angry?"

She laughed and laid her head against my chest.

"When I saw Father smack you, I stopped caring. If I want to be with you, then I will be. Screw their opinions. Fuck them actually."

"I love it when you talk like that." I picked her up and spun her around. "So where to? We have no place to stay."

Young-ja giggled and kissed my forehead.

"We can stop by that rameyeon place I told you about earlier. Then we can spend the night at my aunt's before going back home tomorrow. She lives the next block over."

"Sounds like a date." I smirked, placing her back on the ground and grabbing the luggage we dumped near the gate. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

We began walking down the street, swinging our hands back and forth like some cheesy couple.

"By the way, Miles. About what you said back there….."

"What about it?"

"Well, you said you love me." Shit. I forgot I said at out loud. "Did..did you really mean that?"

I didn't plan on pouring my guts out, but since it was out in the open, I decided to own up to it.

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I'm in love with you, Young-ja. Heart eyes and all."

She said nothing, just stared at the ground with this wide eyed expression.

"Um-."

"Don't force yourself. We can talk about this later after some chow and a goodnights sleep." I kissed her cheek, trying to hide how scared I was about the look on her face. "Alright?"

"….Alright."

**A/N: This chapter originally had Young-ja's response to Mile's confession, but I felt it kinda ruined the flow of the chapter, so it will be in the next one. Also, though it would've been nice, I thought the Parks accepting Miles and Young-ja would be too Parks will come around eventually. And Young-ja finally was honest with her parents! And Miles confessed to her! Now that this area of the story is over, it is only a few more chapters then we enter the darker part of 'Milestones.' Lol. I'm looking forward to it. Yes, this story gets dark.**


	13. Answer

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome any new readers! Since this chapter was originally part of the previous one, it is short but important. **

**Enjoy!**

A week after the trip to Gunsan, I found myself pacing my room and biting my nails.

After the disaster at my house, Miles and I never talked about his confession. I could see it in his face how my silence was killing him bit by bit, but I had to organize my feelings before giving him an answer.

'Obviously I like him since we are dating. But, do I..**love him**?'

My heart clenched at the thought, and I fell to the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Two years ago, Miles was just the boy who sat behind me in English class and never brought his own pencil to class. Now, he is a brash, cocky, loving man who says he loves me.

'I love you.'

Such strange words to hear.

The only people who've ever said that to me were my parents when I was young, and they weren't such stiff pricks.

"Maybe he just thinks he loves me." I thought aloud, but I knew that was a lie.

Thinking back on the last few months, I noticed Miles **has** been looking at me differently. He always had this friendly look in his eyes, but now, I realized there was something more….passionate in his gaze lately. And maybe his kisses and hugs felt a little different too. More care and endearment were placed into them.

And, to top it all off, the confrontation at my home. Miles may be a jerk at times, but one thing he is not is a liar.

"Dear Lord." I sighed, covering my face and curling into a ball. "He really does love me."

The realization frightened and thrilled me all at once.

But the question is: do I love him too?

Lying on my back, I thought back on the past two years.

Memories off Miles and I playing video games, eating, arguing, laughing, kissing, and hugging flashed through my mind: Miles staying up all night with me at the library, so I didn't have to walk back to my room in the dark; Miles buying me pads during my period without a single complaint; Miles arguing with me over the best way to eat Mac n Cheese; Miles defending me in front of my parents; Miles telling me he loves me.

Miles just being Miles.

My Miles.

"Oh my god." I whispered. "I'm in love with him."

Scrambling to my feet, I flung the door open and tore down the hallway.

A whisper.

"I'm in love with him."

A statement.

"I'm in love with him."

A shout.

"I'm in love with him!"

A declaration.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM!"

Tears streamed down my face as I repeated the words over and over, not caring if I was drawing attention.

I spotted Miles washing his Jeep in the parking lot and raced towards him.

"MILES!" I screamed, tackling him to the ground, spraying water and soap everywhere.

"The fuck?!" He shouted, pulling himself up onto his elbows. "Young-ja?! What the hell is wrong w-?!"

"I love you!"

The words froze in his mouth, and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Say that again." Miles suddenly grasped my arms, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I need to hear it again."

"Miles Upshur, I'm in love with you."

He continued to stare at me with a blank expression, making me afraid that I was too late.

"Mi-Mmph!"

He smeared a handful of bubbles across my face.

"W-what the hell, Miles?!"

"That was for making me wait." Then he yanked me on top of him, that infamous smirk growing on his face. "This is for everything else."

I laughed as he pulled me in for a kiss, and everything else faded away.

I didn't care about my parents, school, or anything.

Just the man lying in front of me, who loves me just as much as I love him.

**A/N: Love all around. Love. Love. Just a few more chapters and the dark chapters start. Hehehehe. **


	14. Goodbye for now

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And welcome any new readers! I realize things escalated quickly in the last few chapters, but it was totally out of my control. *cough* *cough* The words wrote themselves without my say so. Hahaha. Here is a dramatic little chapter before the next story arc where things really get juicy. **

My parents didn't consent to our relationship until well into our senior year. Well, it wasn't really 'consent' but passive aggressive acceptance since I was not listening to them anymore, and they had no choice but to accept it. During the two years after the confrontation, it was awkward coming home to the silent treatment, yet I could've really cared less.

I was finally doing things my own way without hesitation, and it felt great.

With my newfound freedom and Miles by my side, my musical talents flourished, catching the eye of the Denver Symphony Orchestra.

They offered me a place in a 3-year study program with several acclaimed musicians to hone my craft further before officially giving me a place in the orchestra as a pianist and composer.

Miles and I screamed and jumped around when I received the invitation, pissing everyone off in the Student Life center.

Yes, the offer was a dream come true.

But there was a catch.

My studies would take place abroad, and I would have to leave right after graduation.

This meant that Miles and I would be separated for three years.

**Three whole years.**

* * *

May 2005

It was the day before graduation, and I was sitting in my empty dorm room, reflecting on the past.

The Upshurs and my parents' were in town for the ceremonies, staying at the same hotel oddly enough. Kamal and Sophia bombarded them with handshakes and hugs, while my parents just stiffly shook their hands. Typical.

I shook my head at the memory and closed my eyes.

'Four years really fly by, don't they?'

So much has happened: I met Miles and fell in love with him, I gained independence from my parents, and now, I have my dream job and have a chance to learn more about the musical world.

Despite all of my good fortune, my heart ached thinking about the three year separation.

Since our confessions two years prior, life has just been wonderful. Sure we have our fights and differences, but it has been an adventure, and my chest warms at the thought of Miles.

For four years, that boy has been a huge part of my life

How can I adjust when I've grown so accustomed to having him near me?

Miles tells me to "stop your worrying and go show the world what you're made off", but I know the separation is killing him inside too, even though he hasn't shown it yet.

My phone vibrated before I could get too lost in my thoughts and found it was a text from Miles.

_Short Stack, meet me by the jeep. There is somewhere I want to go._

I'm going to miss his cryptic messages.

Grabbing my purse, I looked around the room with a heavy heart one final time before walking out.

* * *

"You're thirty minutes late, short stack." Miles called out, hopping off the hood of the jeep. "If I recall correctly, you did the same thing when I first asked you to meet me here."

I playfully punched his arm and laughed.

"You seem to forget how big campus is, Miles. Now, tell me where it is we're going."

"It's a surprise!" He went and opened the passenger door for me. "Your chariot awaits, _cara mia_."

"Oh, no." I giggled, taking my seat. "Nothing good ever happens when you call me that."

"Oh shut up and close your eyes." He scoffed, hopping into the driver's seat. "I'll tell you when we get there."

"I hope it's not a strip club again."

"That was an accident! I thought it was a strip **mall**. Now close your eyes!"

"Sure, Miles. Sure."

* * *

After twenty minutes of bumpy roads and pure darkness, I started getting curious about our destination.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" I whined, kicking my feet back and forth.

"Did I say we were there yet?"

"..No."

"Then no. Just relax and be patient."

"That's rich coming from you." I mumbled, squealing when he pinched my nose.

* * *

About ten minutes later, I felt the jeep halt to a stop and heard Miles scrambling around the car, chanting "Don't open your eyes yet!" with an occasional "I need to clean the carpet" and a "Where the fuck are the M&amp;M's?!" thrown in.

"Miles?" I lowered my hands, my eyes still closed. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy." He snapped, still shuffling around the backseat. "Hold on a second."

"Are you su-?"

"Got it!" He cheered, relief evident in his voice. "Alright, you can look now."

I opened my eyes and saw Miles had parked the jeep on a cliff overlooking the city. I gasped and covered my mouth, marveled by the breathtaking view.

The sun was setting, dying the valley in a reddish glow, making the view both haunting and beautiful.

"Miles," I breathed out, "How did you find this place?"

"Sometimes I cut class and drive around the mountains, clearing the head and such. Anyways," He held up a bag. "here is part two of the surprise."

I took a look at the bag and laughed.

"Burger King? Oh the memories!" I peeked into the bag and saw two whoppers, the same thing we ordered when we first met. "Wow, Miles, this is so sweet."

He shrugged with a smile on his face.

"Well, I figured our last day as college students warranted a celebration. And what better way to celebrate than with a great view, great food, and great company?"

His words, though very touching, sent a pang of sorrow into my heart.

Our last day as students.

Our last day together.

"Miles," I turned to him. "I-."

"If you're going to bring up your trip again, save your breath. Young-ja," He stared me, a serious expression on his face. "This is a wonderful opportunity. Three years isn't that long, and we'll keep in contact through texts and Skype. So stop worrying and go."

He snatched a whopper from the bag and began stuffing his face, squeezing the burger until the ketchup squirted out its sides.

"Miles.." I reached out towards him.

"Look!" He whipped out another bag filled with candy. "I bought all of your favorites: Junior Mints, M&amp;Ms, and Butterfingers." Miles voice began to crack. "I know how much you love these, so you better eat up."

'Miles.." I touched his shoulder, but he shoved my hand away.

"Don't start, Young-ja! I want to enjoy what little time I have left with you, and I will be damned if I let you spend the entire time reminding me again and again that you're leaving."

He turned away from me, his body starting to tremble, and I felt my heart shatter into pieces.

"Miles," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. "…I'll miss you too."

He covered his eyes and a small gasp escaped his lips as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

"Damn it. I'm happy for you, I really am." Then he finally faced me with red eyes and a heartbroken expression. "So why does it feel like my heart's being ripped out of my chest?"

I said nothing, just yanked him into my arms and let him cry on my shoulder as I cried alongside him.

Miles held me so tightly that it hurt, but I didn't care and held him just as fiercely.

"Fuck," he whimpered, "I miss you so much already. For three damn years, I won't be able to hold you, or kiss you, or anything. Just the thought of it pisses me off more and more."

I ran my fingers through his unruly black hair and rubbed circles on his back, trying to soothe the both of us.

"It's like you said," I replied in a voice I didn't recognize. "Three years will fly by, and we still can keep in contact." Then I gave a small chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. "You won't find someone else while I'm gone, will you?"

Miles immediately sat up, eyes wide and cheeks caked with dried tears.

"Don't even joke about that! Do you think my feelings for you will disappear in three years?!" He cupped my face in his hands. "I love you. Only you. If you were gone for** twenty** years, I'd still be here waiting for you. And you know I mean that from the bottom of my heart."

I smiled and nodded, feeling a new set of tears coming out.

"I know." I said weakly, placing my hands over his. "I love you too, Miles. I promise to hurry up and come back to you."

"You better, short stack." He rested his forehead against mine. "And you damn well better learn every single fucking thing about music because I'm expecting a full performance when you come back."

"It's a date then." I sealed the promise with a kiss which he returned readily, tangling his fingers into my hair.

"And while you're gone," Miles said in between kisses. "I'll be kicking ass and taking names with my stories, so you'll hear my name all across Europe."

I laughed, my heart feeling a little lighter now. "I look forward to it."

We continued kissing, not leaving an inch between us, wanting to remember how the other felt.

"We should probably head back." I panted, easing Miles off me. "It is already 2 am."

"We can just sleep in the backseat. I have blankets." He started kissing down my neck. "I want to be with you as long as possible."

Blushing, I smiled and pulled him off me again, ignoring his pout.

"Graduation for the English Department is at 6 a.m., and I'm sure your parents are worried about you since you promised to be home by midnight." I rubbed my noses against his. "And this will give you something to look forward to when I come back."

"Must you always be such a goody two-shoes, short stack?" He sighed, returning the gesture.

"Yes, but would you have me any other way?"

"Hell no." Miles lifted my hand to his face and kissed my knuckles. "Alright, you win, Short Stack. But be ready when you come back because I'm cashing in that rain check immediately."

"As long as you wait until we're in private, you dork." I kissed his cheek. "Be good for me while I'm gone, alright?"

"I'll try. Just hurry back to me. Okay?"

"Okay."

**A/N: The college arc is now done! I just wanted to have a chapter with tears and making out because I'm strange like that. In regards to a separation, I felt Miles would try to hide his feelings because he didn't want to seem selfish and like he was stopping Young-ja from chasing her dreams. Yet, if he was pushed enough, I feel his façade would shatter, and he would show his true feelings. I was looking through my outlines and realized I really needed to move the story along now that they confessed. I also want to move to the darker parts of the story now. It will happen in a few chapters since I want to do at least one with them apart. And that ending, I didn't mean to make it a "Fault in Our Stars" reference. Totally by accident. Lol. One more big thing happens before Mount Massive timeline, so look forward to it! By the way, in this chapter, both Miles and Young-ja are 21, about to turn 22. *cries* They grow up so fast. P.S. This story still going to be rated T until the later chapters where it will be rated M. P.P.S. I'm still traveling, so the updates will still be weird. Hahaha. **


	15. The Pursuit of Justice

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! For this chapter, I had to do a shit ton of research and I even interviewed some people, so that is why it took so long to type up. I wanted to do a chapter on Miles' past in Afghanistan, and I realize they were really vague on what exactly got him fired, so I kinda went overboard. I was really hesitant to write this chapter since war and terrorism is a touchy subject with a lot of people. However, I felt this was a necessary chapter to write since this fanfic is technically an Outlast prequel. That and I wanted to write more about Miles' reasons for becoming a journalist and why he cares about pursing the truth so much. I have to thank my sister for helping me write this and the awesome pictures she's drawn! Please check my profile for the other two pictures' she has drawn for me. This time featuring adult Young-ja and Miles! And I would like to thank lokiAU10 for their lovely suggestions and questions. I don't want to give anything away, but I must say most of the things you said are probably going to happen~.**

**And welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

(Miles)

Soon after Short Stack's departure, I found myself working at some Atlanta news company. It wasn't anything special, but it paid the bills and gave me some insight on the journalist business.

Besides, how could I get assignments as an investigative reporter without references and proof I can get the job done? Ah, the life of a fucking journalist.

But, at least I had a decent apartment with internet access, so Short Stack and I could talk on Skype. She seems really happy, always babbling about what she learned today or what sights Germany had to offer. It was hard the first few times, hanging up and shutting off the monitor, but we soon got used to it and just looked forward to our next meeting.

In short, my life was pretty average and was probably going to stay that way.

That is, until I got myself caught in a major shit storm.

* * *

It was two years after I was hired when my supervisor, Mr. Webber, approached my cubicle with an offer.

"We are doing a section on the American heroes in Kabul, Afghanistan, so we need someone to go and interview them." He tossed a folder onto my desk. "Congratulations, Upshur. We've chosen you for the job."

"Holy shit!" I snatched the folder up and flipped through it. "Really?!"

"Just don't do anything stupid."

I couldn't believe I was actually going on location instead of nesting in my fucking cubicle like usual.

If I was into kissing toads with facial hair, I would've kissed my boss then and there.

But I just settled for a "Thank you, sir".

"Your travel information is in that folder. Plane leaves tonight, so you better get going."

'Well, shit. Thanks for the heads up, boss.'

I scrambled around the square prison, tossing this and that into my satchel before racing down the stairs and out to the parking lot.

The trip to my dinky apartment was a blur, and I found myself zipping around my bedroom in a matter of minutes.

Once all of my necessities were packed away, I called my parents who were a mixed of ecstatic and petrified.

After reassuring them over and over that I'd be safe, I tried to call Short Stack but was welcomed by her voicemail instead. So, I settled for leaving her a text:

**Off to show the world what I'm made of! Get ready to hear my name around the world!**

"Alright, Miles." I said to myself, making sure the stove was off and everything was locked. "Let's go kick ass."

Then I was off.

* * *

A man in a military uniform awaited my arrival at the base airport entrance, scrutinizing me under his shades.

"You must be Miles Upshur. Kinda young to be a **reporter**, aren't ya?"

"Well, half of the people in your squad are kinda young to be **soldiers**, aren't they?"

"Watch your mouth, boy." The man got into my face. "As long as you're under my care, you do as I say, alright?"

"Yes, sir." I gave him a two-finger salute. "Do I have permission to use the can before takeoff or is that beyond my rights?"

The soldier's muscles tighten, and I could tell he was trying not to punch me in the jaw.

"Chill out, man." I chuckled, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. "Come on, get that stick out of your ass and let's go."

"Cocky little shit." I heard him huffed under his breath.

* * *

We boarded a tiny military airplane with four seats on both sides of the aisle.

I tossed my bag into a nearby seat and plopped myself down next to it.

The soldier, Walters according to his name tag, sat in the seat in front of me.

"Son, let me remind you that…..."

It was basically the same lecture my boss gave me.

The only good thing about it was it distracted me from takeoff.

I tuned him out after a while and focused on the toy I brought along: a new camcorder.

It was something I've been saving up for the minute I spotted it at Best Buy.

Now, I finally had a use for it.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't planning on doing anything illegal, but if I found something worth telling the world about, you can beat your ass I was going to record it. Too many news networks censor their stories to appeal to a certain audience and leave out important details if it makes the U.S. or those in power look bad. Especially if it is between an 'honorable' man and a 'criminal.'

I clutched the camcorder tightly.

I've seen innocent people arrested and condemned by the 'higher' authorities for how they look and where they come from. Never mind if the facts say otherwise, if someone fits a certain stereotype or mold, they are guilty in the eyes of law enforcement and the public. The media spews out crap, and the viewers eat it up without questioning it.

That is why I wanted to become an investigative reporter.

I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty if it means that the truth will come to light.

No biases. No cover ups.

Just cold, hard facts.

I gazed out the window at the vast ocean below.

Afghanistan and the Middle East countries were always on the news, mainly regarding the wars and riots.

I pissed me off to no end when my father and I were out in public and idiots would stare at us with hushed whispers and pointed glances.

Yes, because _everyone_ from the Middle East is a terrorist.

At least, that's the vibe I get from my 'fellow' neighbors.

Placing my camcorder back in my bag, I put my feet up on the seat next to me and tried to catch some sleep before we landed.

Let the fun begin.

* * *

Once the plane landed in the airport a million years later, I was immediately escorted to a hotel and ordered not to leave my room without an escort, a.k.a Walters.

So, naturally, the minute Captain Stick-up-Ass left to grab some chow, I slipped out of the room and went to investigate Kabul on my own.

As I waltzed down the street, I realized I should've brought a fucking translator or a dictionary, at least. People tend to believe everyone in the Middle East or around it speak the same language, but that is not true. You can find everything from Arabic to Somali, and even if you are in the same country, there are about 50 different dialects.

So I did my best, making a few educated guesses here and there about the various buildings and people.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to find exactly, but I figured people may sing a different tune without a horde of cameras or armed soldiers lurking around.

People were staring at me as I passed by, so I gave everyone a wave and a smile to show I had no ill intentions. Eventually a group of little boys approached me.

They were really cute and short, and I wondered if this was the first time they've seen an American without a camera crew or a military uniform.

I sat down with them for a while and showed off the pictures in my wallet of my family and Short Stack. In return, they showed me their toys and drawings with much enthusiasm and vigor that it warmed my heart. But it also hurt it when I noticed one of the boys was missing one of his legs.

The war between the military and the Taliban truly was brutal, and a simple look around the city could tell you how much it affected the people.

Even with the Taliban's fall from power in 2001, the group's presence is still at large and disrupts any chance of rebuilding the city.

I don't know how long this war will last, but these children don't deserve to grow up surrounded by gunfire and fear.

And the world needs to see beyond what their t.v. sets say and realize Afghanistan is more than a war zone.

This country is beautiful with wide terrains and mountains that are lush and full of life.

That is one of the things I want to show the world.

The boys were soon called away by their parents, leaving me alone in the shade.

'I hope peace will come soon.'

The sun was starting to set, so I figured it was time to head back to the hotel and deal with the, probably, pissed off soldier waiting for me.

'Yay.'

* * *

"Didn't I tell you to stay put, Upshur?!"

I wiped the spit off my face with a groan of disgust.

"Destress thy breasts, Walters. I was only a block away. Besides, your platoon is scattered around the city, so I technically had about ten escorts, at least."

Walter's face was a cheery red, and I thought he looked like one of those fireball candies you get from those tiny candy crank machines in the mall.

He took a few deep breaths and pinched his nose.

"Just…stay put, alright? I'll be back for you tomorrow, so you can interview the troops. Goodnight, Upshur." He shut the door behind him, leaving me alone in the cramped room.

"Let's just hope they have something interesting to say because I'm not going to fawn over them." I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Don't get me wrong.

I understand these people join the military to serve their country and defend it.

It is honorable, and I can respect that mindset.

But they serve a government that uses them for propaganda.

These soldiers, regardless of their will or not, are station wherever and do whatever the higher powers tell them.

Because it is "their duty".

They fight and come home in a casket or casts.

Then, the government who rallied them up about defending their country and being part of something wonderful, tosses them aside.

And when they come home in caskets, they tell the grieving families and the public that this soldier "died for our freedom" and to "honor our country."

Half of the wars and countries the soldiers are shipped off to have nothing to do with **our** freedom and are only for the behest of the state.

"Keep us safe/Fight for our freedom" says the country in the land of another*.

What about the innocent people who died solely because they were in a war zone?

So, in short, I sympathize with, maybe pity, the soldiers, but I can't say I support their employer.

* * *

The next day, I found myself sitting across from soldier after solider in the mess hall, interviewing them.

My pen snapped in my hand after the ninth soldier told me "I'm just doing my duty for my country."

I was tempted to ask "If your country asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?!"

After 'thanking' a lieutenant for his time, I rubbed my weary face and wished there was some whisky in the vicinity.

"You're the first reporter whose not said 'Thank you for your service'." A teasing voice spoke up.

A young man, no older than 19 at the most, sat across from me with a gentle smile on his face.

"Not to be anti-American for anything, but I don't exactly believe everything you guys do can be labeled as 'patriotic'."

"I understand." He smiled, holding his hand out. "Names Johnathan McCarthy, but you can call my Johnny."

"Pleasure, Johnny. I'm Miles Upshur." I shook his hand, taking note he had quite a firm grip for a string bean.

To be honest, he reminded me of myself before I got a gym membership.

"Been in the service for long?"

"About a year now. After getting out of training, I was shipped off to Kabul without a single goodbye to my family."

Well, well, now this is something I haven't heard before.

"That is pretty shitty," I responded while scribbling in my notebook. "Have you had a chance to talk to them since coming here?"

"Maybe once or twice. It's kinda hard when most of your day consists of patrols and surveillance."

"Hmm. Y'know, you're the first soldier I've heard that's actually complained about being here. I'm sure the others gripe about it, but you're the only vocal one I've meet so far." I laughed to myself. "Forgive me, I was raised in the Bible Belt where 90% of the population considers soldiers divine beings."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Johnny chuckled, tiddling his thumbs. "We're not angels, far from it actually."

There was a shift in his tone, and I raised my head to look at him.

"Now that I think about it, I'm only supposed to be interviewing the **high ranking** officers for my assignment." I leaned forward and continued in a whisper. "So, something tells me you have a reason for sneaking in here."

Johnny nodded, taking a quick glance around the room.

"I'm a tiny guy, not many people notice me, but I notice them." Johnny scooted closer. "I hear people talk while I do the grunt work. They talk about things that aren't brought up at the CNN interviews or troop meetings."

I wrote this all down, shocked I was actually getting something.

"What kind of things, Johnny?"

He slipped me a piece of paper with a number on it.

"This is one of the secret buildings on the base. Not a lot of soldiers know about, top secret and such. I think something is going down there tonight. Something we're not supposed to know about."

I took the note and stuffed into my pocket as casually as I could.

"Why are you telling me about this though? I don't work for a huge network or anything."

"That's exactly why. Big networks have agendas and censor crap out, and something tells me that what I gave you doesn't belong in their hands."

"Johnny," I stood up and placed my hand on his shoulder. "If I wasn't madly in love with someone else, I'd kiss you right here and now. What can I do to repay you?"

"Don't tell anyone I was your inside source."

"Roger that. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't get caught."

* * *

During our college days, I was often accused of being like a squirrel, climbing up trees and walls without a sound.

Now, I can proudly say that my animal-like qualities come in handy.

After avoiding guards and scaling up the wall, I was nestled in an air vent above what appeared to be a meeting room.

"I hope this isn't a waste of my time." I mumbled, turning on my camcorder as a group of people waltzed in.

I prayed to the powers that be that my breathing didn't sound like a fucking lawnmower on steroids and angled my camcorder towards the group.

It appeared to be a U.S. general, two soldiers, and an Afghan man.

Upon closer inspection, I recognized the general as one of the top officers in the service, based on all the news reports and award ceremonies about him.

The air turned a complete twenty degrees cooler, and I wondered if I was about to witness something illegal.

"We have considered your terms." The general spoke up, sitting across the Afghan man.

"And?" He said.

"And… we are prepared to negotiate."

A negotiation?! For what? And is this man…? Is he..part of the Taliban?

"What do you have to offer?" The man asked.

The general gestured to the two soldiers who placed a large rectangular crate on the table.

'Are those…?'

The lid was pried off, showing the contents off to the entire room.

Inside was wooden box was a pile of U.S. military guns.

'Oh shit.'

"I hope this will suffice." The general cleared his throat. "In return, you will release Mr. William Freeman."

'William Freeman?! 4th richest man in the world and oil tycoon?! I've heard reports about him being in the wrong place at the wrong time and ending up in the wrong hands, but the U.S. military is willing to exchange their weapons for this man?! Without informing anyone else?!'

The man nodded and picked up the crate of weapons.

"Mr. Freeman will be returned to you tomorrow. Nice doing business with you."

I slinked away as the two shook hands, heart pounding at what I just witnessed.

I returned to end of the vent that lead to the outside and slid out and down the wall.

Looking both ways, I sprinted across the field and back towards the barracks where my lodgings now were.

Slipping into my room without a sound, I kicked off my shoes and dove into bed, clutching my camcorder close.

'Shit. I never expected to find something like that! Webber, you asked me to get a story while I was here. Well, I got you a fucking story alright!'

* * *

The minute the plane landed on American soil, I sprinted towards the gate, giving Walters a salute and a "Thanks for everything" before he could say another word.

Once I passed through security, I practically launched myself into my jeep and sped down the highway, anxious to upload my footage.

What felt like seconds later, I was at my computer desk, bags dumped at the entrance, and connecting the USB drive to my computer.

Once the footage was all loaded, I uploaded it onto VIRALeaks and slammed my computer shut.

I felt so fucking alive.

This is what I was meant to do.

In the heat of the moment, I didn't consider the consequences for my actions and just celebrated my discovery.

Too bad it all came back to bite me in the ass.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to find every news station in an uproar.

My footage was playing on loop from Good Morning America to CNN.

Despite uploading the footage on a website specializing in anonymous leaked info, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone figured out it was me.

The magic of tracing computers, my friends.

But, I wasn't scared.

No, I was fucking proud of what I've done.

However, remind me to find Johnny after he finished his time and treat him to a round of drinks.

I got dressed and made my way to work, prepared to what I knew was coming.

As I walked in the doorway, Webber and I made eye contact, and I knew I was fucked.

He made the connection quicker than I thought, to be honest.

Got to give the toad credit.

I was dragged into his office and prepared myself for the upcoming spit fest.

"What the fuck did you do, Upshur?" He turned his computer screen towards me. "Look at the mess you caused! I asked you to do a report on our country's heroes, not on a terrorist negotiation!"

"Are you telling me I should've turned a blind eye to a decorated U.S. general negotiating with a terrorist organization in the dead of night for the life of one of the richest men on Earth?"

Webber just covered his face and fell back in his chair.

"I'm just saying I gave you a job- a simple job!-and you had to go and do this!"

"I wasn't going to turn my back on this! People had the right to know!"

"I'm the boss though! And you print what I want you to print! Dammit, Miles! You had to go and pull a stupid stunt like this! I ca-!" Suddenly, Webber slammed his hands flat on his desk, rattling it and tipping a stack of books over. "You know what, Upshur!? This is the final straw. If you want to wander into danger waters, then fine. You're fired."

Can't say I didn't see that coming.

* * *

After clearing my stuff out, I drove my home and waited for the police to come breaking down my door.

I wouldn't care though.

No, I finally did some real investigative reporting, and it felt fucking great.

An hour turned into two, then three.

By this time, I was starting to get anxious.

'Just hurry up already!'

Suddenly, there was a knock on my door, and I nearly shat my pants.

Preparing myself to be tackled upon sight, I whipped the door open.

And there stood a tall man in a suit.

"Are you Miles Upshur?" He asked in an Australian accent.

"Yeah, and you must be from the CIA."

"No, actually I'm the creator of VIRALinks, the website you uploaded the negotiation footage on."

'No, this was worse. I'm so fucked.'

I invited him in and closed the door behind him.

"I see it didn't take long for you to find me."

"We traced the source back to your computer."

'Cue game show music, please.'

"Well, if you're not here to arrest me, then why the hell are you here? If it is to advertise your business, then I'm afraid to inform you I'm too busy being unemployed."

The stone faced man cracked a smile.

"Actually, I'm here to put your mind at ease."

"What?"

"A 24-year old man just showed the entire U.S. that one of the finest generals of our time was negotiating with terrorists. If I were him, I'd probably be scared shitless of what would happen next." He turned toward me, arms clasped behind his back. "Well, I'm here to inform you that the FBI or the CIA won't be taking you into custody."

"What?!"

"In the past hour alone, your footage had gained a million hits and quite a following too. People are labeling you "The Whistleblower." Not many people would sneak into a private government building for the sake of exposing the truth. You got guts, Mr. Upshur."

"Wait a minute. This doesn't make sense. Regardless of the popularity, that doesn't seem like the government to turn a blind eye to someone who just exposed one of their own as a traitor."

"Well," The man adjusted his cuff links. "I may've had something to do with that. You see, a swarm of cops were ready to raid your apartment this morning, but I told them you performed a great deed for your country by exposing the truth. Besides, arresting you would only being mass media attention to it, and it would cause quite a stir with your 'fans'. Contrary to popular belief, it's not people who should fear their governments, but governments who should fear their people. So, I informed them that you lost your job, and that should be punishment enough. You're not the first person to do something like this anyways. Besides, they have bigger fish to fry, like General Rosse for instance." He gave me a smirk. "Not to say you're completely off the hook since they intend to keep a close eye on you, but I thought I should let you know you're not going to federal prison."

I tried to wrap all this around my head.

"So, you're telling me I'm…alright? Why did you do this for me anyways?"

"Mr. Upshur. It was because of people like you that I created VIRALinks. People that aren't afraid to get their hands dirty to bring the truth to light." He picked up my camcorder and computer. "That being said, I'll be taking these with me."

"H-Hey! What are yo-?!"

"There are still people trying to tracing the video back to you. So, consider this the start of a blank sheet."

'Can't I just delete that data, you dickwad?'

The man waltzed towards the front door with my gear in hand.

Before steeping out the door, he glanced back at me.

"Never lose that spark, Mr. Upshur. It is a rare thing to find such stupidity."

"Wh-?!"

"And such bravery. I hope to see more from you in the future."

And with that, the door shut.

I scratched my head, wondering how things could go so topsy turvy in the matter of fifteen minutes.

"Well, if I'm not going to prison, I should go buy another camcorder and laptop if I'm going to do this right." I grabbed my keys and headed out, feeling like I was entering a new chapter of my life.

In the matter of three days, I've gone from boring desk journalist to former boring desk journalist that brought a shady dealing to public attention.

Not a bad way to kick of my career, I must say.

Not bad at all.

A/N:

***I got this from a chat about the war: **

** post/119860111088/what-to-remember-on-memorial-day**

**I went through five drafts before settling on this one. I just figured if Miles got fired for what he posted on Afghanistan, it must've been pretty bad. By the way, the man from the leak website is the same man Waylon was talking to at the end of Whistleblower. I think his name is Julian. So, there is Miles' Afghanistan backstory. And I used part of the Whistleblower beta note since Waylon mentions being a fan of what Miles' did. Anyways, next chapter is about Young-ja! And for those who wanted to know more about her parents' reluctant approval of Miles, it will be in there. **


	16. Long Awaited Approval

**A/N: Thank you for the awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! This chapter is about Young-ja and her parents' reluctant acceptance of Miles! And Engimatic-Elysmium showed me what Miles' voice actor sounded like! Quite the pleasant surprise! And, to return the favor, I've put a link on my profile of what I imagined Young-ja to look and sound like. The model is Kim Seuk Hye and the band is J. Rabbit. The first singer is how I imagine her voice to be like. And "WriteandDrawthis" is my tumblr blog for this story. It includes both the pictures my sister and I have drawn, and Outlast fanart I like!**

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

-Nuremberg, Germany-

These past two years have been like a dream. Initially, I was nervous because of the language barrier and culture shock. However, with the assistance of my mentor and the other interns, my stay here has been wonderful!

My lodging is in a pension on the edge of town. It is a cute, old-fashion building with an adorable elderly couple running it. It is also on the same block as the music hall, so my commute to and from classes is painless. And, as an additional perk, I have the honor of having Doctor Lydia Egich as my mentor. She is a master pianist and cellist and just being in her presence makes my eyes sparkle. Dr. Egich is a tough lady, never letting up until I fix my mistake, but her praise makes up for it and encourages me strive for greatness.

Though, I have to admit that every time I practice in the main hall, I expect to hear Miles cheer me on from the audience.

I miss him so much.

But I have to study hard so when I come home I can show him these three years were worth the wait.

* * *

On one of my rare days off, I decided to be lazy and lay in bed all day.

The chatter and energy from the street below gave my chilly room some warmth in the November weather. However, it wasn't warm enough for me to leave my blanket cocoon.

I considered Skyping Miles until I peeked over at the clock and realized it was midnight where he was at. Miles is one of those people who REALLY cherish sleep, and if he doesn't have anything to do, he dozes off. Heck, the twit fell asleep in the shower once back in college, and I had to go drag him out when I heard a crash in the bathroom. It is no easy feat trying to drag your naked beanpole boyfriend out of the shower while covering your eyes and avoiding obstacles.

I chuckled to myself and thought of what would my parents say if they saw that spectacle.

They would probably forget accepting Miles entirely.

Despite everything I went through to get them to see my way.

* * *

_January 2005_

_It was a week before the start of Spring semester, and I was in my room packing my bags. _

_Since the fight almost two years prior, my parents have avoided talking to me unless it's absolutely necessary. _

_Despite my new 'not-going-to-give-a-shit' attitude, it still hurt to have my own parents ignore me, regardless of the reasons. _

"_I guess I'll go ahead and leave." I mumbled to myself, making sure everything was in order before my five month departure. "It would suck to leave one of my textbooks in another country."_

_Once I deemed everything in order, I grabbed my bags and opened the door, only to find my father standing there._

"_Come to the kitchen, Young-ja. We need to talk." He stated with a stern expression._

_Confused and tad anxious, I placed by things on the ground and followed him down the hall to the kitchen._

_Mother was already at the table with a pot of coffee and three cups ready. _

'_Oh crap. This isn't going to be a short talk, is it?'_

_Father took the seat next to her, while I sat across from them, feeling like I was in an interrogation room. _

"_Is there something you want to say, appa? Umma? If it is nothing important, I have to g-."_

"_Young-ja," Mother cut me off. "Are you still seeing that Upshur boy?"_

_I clenched my fists, not wanting another squabble about Miles._

"_Yes," I replied with an even tone, staring her dead in the eye. "I am still seeing __Miles__."_

"_So you truly are serious about him." Father butted in._

_I resisted the urge to roll my eyes._

"_Obviously, appa. I wouldn't have entered this relationship without complete commitment."_

_He slammed his cup on the table, but I didn't flinch at all. _

"_Don't talk to me in that tone, Park Young-ja! This is exactly why we forbid you from seeing that boy in the first place!"_

"_Okay," I placed my palms flat on the table and stood up. "If you are going to insult him, at least call him by his name. It is Miles Upshur, not 'boy'. Second, don't blame everything on Miles. Even without his influence, I would've learned to stand up for myself anyways."_

"_Stand up for yourself?" Mother scoffed, "You make it sound like we are dictators."_

"_In a way you guys are." I confessed, sitting back down. "You request performance reports from the college, call every week to ask if I'm studying, and butt yours heads into my personal life. I never had any permanent friends in high school because they were afraid of you two and your judgement."_

"_We did that because those punks weren't worth your time!" Mother spoke up. "They were always out past curfew and going clubbing into the late hours of the night."_

"_They were __**teenagers**__, umma." I stressed. "You are supposed to go out and do stupid shit at that age! It is part of growing up!" My parents winced at my language, but I kept going. "I never got to actually experience being a teenager until I went to college and met Miles. And guess what, I __**still**__ kept my grades up with high honors."_

_That last statement silenced my parents._

_They couldn't use terrible grades to justify their argument, so what could they throw at me now?_

_I stared at them, hoping they weren't going to keep fighting this losing battle._

_Eventually, father cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. _

"_That b-….Mr. Upshur has nothing to offer you. I can tell from a single look that he is nothing but a reckless punk with a foul mouth. You're too good for that sort of pers-."_

"_Appa, why did you marry umma?" _

_My words stunned him, and he flinched back in his chair while mother covered her mouth, shock plastered on her face._

"_W-what do you mean?"_

"_I think you know what I mean, appa." I didn't look at him with any hostility, just a blank expression. "Why did you marry umma? Out of all people in the world, why her?"_

"_Because," He took mother's hand in his. "well, I married her because I love her."_

"_But umma was a simple waitress, and you were a successful defense attorney when the two of you met. It was obvious to anyone that you deserved a woman of equal caliber, so why her?"_

"_It was because-," Then it dawned on him what I was trying to say. "…because I loved her, regardless of her social status and wealth. I loved her because of who she was."_

"_And you, umma?" I turned to her. "Why did you pick appa?"_

"_It didn't matter to me if he was rich or not," She rubbed Father's knuckles with her thumb. "He was the only man to make my heart flutter-still is."_

_I smiled as my parents looked at each other, love apparent in the other's gaze._

"_That is how I feel about Miles. I love him for all he is," I leaned across the table and took their hands in mine. "And that should be enough for you too." _

_And from the expressions on their faces, I knew they finally got it through their thick skulls._

"_So," I stood up, taking notice that my flight would depart soon, "Do we have your blessing?"_

_They glanced at each other before looking up at me. _

"_Though I still can't say I'm a fan of Mr. Upshur's attitude and career choices, if he truly makes you happy, then…yes, you have our blessing." My father sighed reluctantly. _

_He didn't have to make it sound like a death sentence, but hey, I'll take it. _

"_Thank you." I moved around the table and pulled them into a hug, the first hug we had in a long time. _

"_You're a smart girl, Young-ja," Mother said, returning the embrace lightly. "I trust you can take care of yourself."_

"_Besides," Father added, patting my back. "it's only dating. It is not like you've slept with him."_

_I just smiled and tightened my hold on them, hoping they didn't notice my sweaty palms._

'_That'll stay my little secret.'_

* * *

I laughed at the memory, remember how terribly red Miles' face got when I told him about my father's remark.

Still, it meant the world to me when I received my parents' (reluctant) consent, and I know Miles feels the same, despite his rude remarks.

Cuddling with a fluffy body pillow, I sighed and closed my eyes.

"I wish you were here with me, you big dork. You would probably start a pillow fight or tell me dirty jokes to get a rouse out of me." I buried my face in the pillow. "Gosh, I miss you so freaking much, Miles. Your dumb stunts and all."

Reaching towards the nightstand, I snatched my phone up and turned it on to CNN.

"And this has to be your dumbest stunt ever." I laughed, reading the headline: U.S. General caught selling weapons to Taliban-work of an anonymous reporter. "Oh, Miles, didn't I tell you to behave?"

I pushed the Home button and smiled at the picture I took of him during one of our dates. He was stuffing a handful of cheese fries into his mouth, making his cheeks puff out like a chipmunk's.

"Throwing the entire U.S. military for a loop without catching fire," I kissed the screen. "That's my man right there."

**A/N: See. Young-ja's parents have hearts deep down. Okay, I need your help! Please send me names you like. I have a new character coming in, and I don't know what to name her. Just message me what names you like, and I'll choose the one that I felt suits her. Oh, and there will be a chapter where Miles and Young-ja dance together. If you have any songs that you feel suit them, please message me! I'd love to hear your suggestions! **


	17. Contact

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! In this chapter, Young-ja flies back to the States!**

**I welcome any new readers! Please enjoy!**

-September 2008-

It's finally happening.

After three years apart, I'm coming home to Colorado.

Home to the familiar sights and sounds.

And home to my Miles.

I wonder how much he's grown. Sure, we've talked through Skype, but people look different through a computer screen than in real life. He is probably as handsome and freakishly tall as ever. I chuckled to myself and gazed out the window.

What direction will our relationship go now?

Will we pick up where we left off, or will we dawdle due to the years apart?

I guess I'll have to wait until the plane lands and see.

* * *

Nine hours into the flight and I was a shaking ball of nerves.

'Oh, Southwestern, why must your flights be so slow?'

I tried everything from watching the in-flight movie to sleeping to make the time go faster, but nothing was working.

Just as I was about to walk around to cool my head, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was a man, maybe a year or so older than me, with short brown hair and five o'clock shadow.

"Excuse me, but is the seat next to you taken? My seat partner is a bit of a chatter box, and frankly, he is starting to get on my nerves. So, may I impose?" He asked with a boyish smile that I found extremely adorable.

"By all means." I scooted over, letting him have the aisle seat. "Please have a seat, sir."

"_Ganshamnida_." He grinned, plopping down next to me and pushing his bag under the seat.

"You speak Korean?" I gasped, finding this stranger more interesting by the second.

"Just a little." He chuckled. "My father is from Bunsan. I can also speak some Portuguese, thanks to my mother. She is from Brazil."

"I **thought** you had some Korean features. So, what brings you to Colorado?"

"I'm coming home from a business trip in Frankfurt." The man sighed, reclining in his seat. "Can't wait to see my wife and kids after three months apart."

"You're married? How lovely! For how many years?"

"It will be our fifth anniversary this November." He said, scratching his nose with a shy grin. "She's an angel for putting up with me for this long. My work causes me to be out and about quite often"

"Aw," I laughed, patting him on the back. "You're too hard on yourself. What about your kids? How many do you have?"

"I have two boys," He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to a family picture. "This is my oldest, Owen, he is three. And this is Nick, he will be one in December."

"They are precious." I cooed, fawning over the photograph. "And is this your wife? She is beautiful."

I pointed to the woman holding the two boys. She had thick black hair put up in a bun with brown skin and piercing hazel eyes.

"Thank you." He grinned, slipping the wallet back into his pocket. "So, what brings you to Colorado, young lady? High school field trip?"

"NO," I snorted, crossing my arms at his jesting tone. "I'm 25, thank you very much! And I am a member of the Denver Symphony Orchestra, just finished a three-year study aboard to hone my skills in fact."

"Well, well," The man golf clapped, "Bravo, young lady. I'll have to stop by for your first performance, Lady Chopin."

I laughed at his silly nickname, slightly irked but pleased nonetheless.

"Anyways," The man continued. "Do **you** have anyone waiting for you? Family? Friends?"

"My boyfriend," I replied, feelings the butterflies return. "He is going to meet me at the airport in fact."

"Wow, you love this guy a lot, don't you?" He snickered, pointing at my face. "I'd recognize that dreamy gaze anywhere. It's the same look I give my wife."

I giggled and nodded.

"Yes, I love him. And he loves me. It's quite cheesy, actually."

"I understand the feeling." He smiled softly, stroking his wedding ring. "So, do you two have plans to get married anytime soon?"

I felt my smile drop at his question, and he noticed immediately.

"Ah! Sorry, that was rude of me to ask!"

"No, no. It's fine. It..just took me by surprise, that's all."

Marriage.

To be honest, the idea has crossed my mind a few times in the past three years, but I figured we'd deal with that possibility at a **much** later date.

But….I don't find myself disliking the idea.

The man cleared his throat, snapping me out of my daydream.

"Anyways, what does this man of yours do for a living?"

"He's an investigative reporter. One of those brave souls who digs into dangerous stories and such."

"Really? Sounds like a thrill. What's his name?"

"Miles Upshur. Oh, wait!" I shuffled through my purse and pulled out one of business cards that he sent me a while back. "Here, if you ever need something exposed, Miles' is your man."

"Thank you," He took the card and inspected it. "Miles Upshur, huh? He's the guy who took down that general a few years back."

"How did you know about that?! His name was never released to the public!"

"I'm a software engineer," The man smirked, a trace of pride evident in his voice. "Not a lot can be hid from me. Regardless, I have to admit, I'm quite the fan. Your man's got balls, young lady."

I snorted and was about to fire back a response when the flight attendant's voice came on the intercom.

"Good evening, passengers. We will now begin our descent. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

"Landing already?" The man asked while buckling in. "Time really flies when you're having fun."

"Yeah," I agreed, following suit. "Thanks for the conversation by the way. It took my mind off my jitters."

"It's been my pleasure, Miss….."

"Oh, Park Young-ja! Nice to meet you."

"Park, huh? That's another similarity we share. Name's Waylon Park."

"Park is a pretty common name in Korea." I giggled, shaking his hand. "Well, I hope we meet again someday, Mr. Park."

"Same to you, Ms. Park. And I hope the next time we meet, you'll introduce me to that journalist of yours."

**A/N: I can feel Young-ja's pain since I'm always mistaken as a 12 year old when I'm 20. I always wondered why Waylon chose Miles to send his e-mail to. I realize that the Whistleblower Beta may explain that, and I think he said he sends the message to other journalists. But since we only see Waylon send the e-mail to Miles and he had limited time, I'm just going with that. And, truth be told, I just wanted to have Waylon and Young-ja meet. As for Waylon's age, I always imagined him to be one or two years older than Miles. So, in this chapter, Waylon is 27, and Miles/Young-ja are 25. So old! Hahaha. And I apologize for the lack of updates, but I'm taking summer classes, so I'll only be able to update once a week. But if I have extra time, I will update more often. Thank you very much!**


	18. Welcome Home

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And thank you for all the name recommendations! The new character will appear in a later chapter! This chapter contains a tad bit of sexual content, but it is nothing graphic or risque. It is more talking than anything. Lol. **

**And welcome all new readers! Enjoy!**

It was around 10 p.m. when the plane landed on the runway. I always preferred night travel to day travel since it made everything seem calmer.

As we disembarked from the plane and into the terminal, Mr. Park clasped his hand onto my shoulder with a smile.

"I wish you the best of luck to the future, Ms. Park."

I nodded and placed my hand on top of his.

"Same to you, Mr. Park."

We said our farewells, and I watched the older man fade into the crowd.

For some reason, I felt my fingers tingle and the words 'watch out' slipped through my lips.

'Why do I get the feeling something bad is going to happen?'

Shaking it off as jet lag, I got in line for security, clutching my phone in my hand.

'Miles should be here by now. Should I text him or wait until I get to the baggage claim? He **did** say he would be waiting at the welcome area.'

Once I passed through security, the butterflies increased in numbers, and I had to lean against a pillar to compose myself.

'I'm finally going to see him again. I can finally touch him, the real him.'

Taking a few deep breaths, I pulled myself together and waltzed over to the baggage claim with my head held high.

Since it was such a late hour, I was able to locate my suitcase easily due to the lack of passengers. To my left, there was an adorable family of five, and to my right was a bickering elderly couple.

After making sure everything was in order, I made my way to the welcome area.

All around me were family and friends welcoming back or greeting their loved ones. The heartwarming sights brought a smile to my face as I scanned the room for my own loved one.

I wheeled around the area about five times before worry creeped in my chest.

'Please tell me the twit is in the bathroom and not in some horrible accident.' I thought to myself while shooting Miles a text.

**Where are you?**

Not a second later, I received a picture message.

Curious, I opened to up.

Only to see a snapshot of the back of my head.

Tears prickled at my eyes, and I whipped around, the butterflies now bursting from my chest.

And there he was with that infuriating smirk on his gorgeous face.

My vision blurred as I looked up at Miles, and I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around him.

Instead, I just smiled and clasped my hands together.

"….I'm home, Miles."

He didn't say anything, just reached out and placed his hands on my cheeks.

Oh, how I've missed his touch.

I closed my eyes and felt that familiar warmth spread across my body.

In the matter of three years, I'd forgotten how Miles' soothing touch could make m-.

"OUCH!" My eyes snapped open as my cheeks were roughly pulled outwards. "What are you doing?!"

"Just making sure it is really you, Short Stack." He laughed, pulling harder and harder. "Wasn't sure if this beautiful woman in front of me was my girlfriend or not."

Irked, I decked him in the abdomen, thus releasing my cheeks from their confines and sending him to the ground.

"You're 25 years old, Miles! Grow up!"

"Ah! There is my bundle of joy." Miles snickered, picking himself up off the ground. "Well, consider it payback for abandoning your poor, defenseless boyfriend."

"Don't make me laugh, Upshur. You are the completely opposite of defensele-GAH!"

I was swept off the floor and into his arms before I could utter another word.

"Miles! What is…"

Miles buried his face into my neck, tightening his hold around my waist like I was going to slip away if he eased up even a little.

"You are back." His breath tickled my clavicle. "You **really** are back. God, I missed you so much."

My eyes softened, and I nudged his head up so he was facing me. All teasing and playfulness was gone from his hazel eyes and all I could see was pure joy and relief. Burying my fingers in his unruly hair, I rested my forehead against his and whispered,

"I missed you too, my love. But, I'm back and here to stay."

He closed the gap, and we kissed as the rest of the world faded away.

Three years of waiting were put into that one kiss, and I found myself glad Miles was holding me up since I'd probably be a puddle on the floor by now.

I wanted nothing more than to stay like that, and Miles felt the same according to his moans, but I knew this wasn't something to be displayed in public.

"Miles." I pulled away, only to be yanked back.

"Didn't I tell you," Miles panted in my ear, hand sliding under my shirt. "when you came back, I was going to cash in that rain check."

"And I told you to wait until we were in private, genius." I fired back, flicking his forehead when that wandering hand of his cupped my breast.

"Nmmm." He groaned, his expression like that of a pouting child. "_Fine_."

I laughed as I was set back on the ground.

"Good boy, Miles."

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbled, picking my suitcase up and holding his other hand out.

Warmth bloomed in my chest again as I weaved my fingers through his and let him lead me out to the parking garage.

"Ah, nice to see another familiar face." I sighed, patting the hood of the old red Jeep. "Still in mint condition, I see."

"What," Miles scoffed, holding the door open for me, "expecting to see a shit ton of dents?"

"Maybe." I teased, sliding onto the passenger seat and enjoying the familiar scents the car gave off.

So many memories.

Some good and some bad, but all of them important nonetheless.

"You wound me, _cara mia_." Miles murmured, pulling out of the parking garage and out to the highway.

I snorted at the old, 'mischievous' nickname and gazed out the window.

The "Queen City of the West" glittered in night, giving the impression of daylight even in the dead of night. I was so used to the medieval architecture of Nuremberg that all the sleek modern buildings made me feel like I was in an episode of "The Jetsons".

While I was reacquainting myself with the 21st century, I felt something nudge my hand.

Miles, while keeping his eyes on the road, was trying to hold my hand.

'He is so freaking cute.'

"Hey, both hands on the steering wheel, young man." I reprimanded, taking his hand in mine anyways.

"Says the lady with a death grip on my hand." He fired back, a pleased smile on his face.

I shook my head with an amused sigh.

"So, what is this apartment of yours like? I never got to see much from our Skype chats."

"You'll see when we get there." There was something in his tone that made me squint my eyes in suspicion, but I figured all of my questions would be answered momentarily.

"I just hope it's not a shoebox."

* * *

Miles' apartment turned out to be more of a large closet with a kitchen in the corner.

"Gosh, Miles!" I surveyed the tiny 'home', wondering how someone Miles' height could stand up straight in this prison. "I understand investigative journalism doesn't have a constant payroll, but I'm sure you can live somewhere a tad more spacious."

Miles placed my luggage on the ground and held his arms out in exasperation.

"This is the best I can do, Your Grace. Besides, it's just me and a fuckload of microwaveable Mac n Cheese. How much room do I need?"

"Well," I started, making a mental note to take Miles grocery shopping. "at least you keep it clean. Don't get me wrong, Miles. It is a cute place, but it's not the definition of comfort. A home is supposed to bring a sense serenity, but imprisonment."

"It is not like I'm home much anyways." He tossed his jacket onto a beat-up sofa and slipped mine off too, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "So there is little point in becoming a Martha Stewart showroom."

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Just promise me you'll try to make this place a little more tranquil, alright?"

Miles looked down at me and sighed.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I can't resist the 'Bambi' eyes."

"Exactly!" I snickered, pulling him down for a kiss which he quickly reciprocated, curling his arms around my waist and lifting me up against him.

"So," He blew on my ear, causing me to shiver. "may I cash in that rain check? It's got three years' worth of interest."

"Yes you may." I whispered, tracing a finger over his lips, enjoying the way his pupils enlarged, before pulling away. "After I use the bathroom though!"

"Of fucking course!" Miles tossed his hands into the air. "You just enjoy getting me all worked up, don't you?!"

I cackled and waltzed over to the bathroom while Miles flopped across the counter in defeat.

"You waited for three years to see me again!" I called from the next room. "You can wait two more minutes."

"But I don't wanna~!" He whined in a little kid voice. "I want my Short Stack now~!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the infamous Afghanistan whistleblower." I muttered to myself, flushing the toilet then washing my hands. "By the way, you need to restock your soap bottle! You're almost out!"

No reply.

"Miles?"

Once again, no reply.

"Oh my God, Miles!" I groaned, shutting the bathroom lights off and stomped back towards the kitchen. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?!"

I turned the corner, only to find the kitchen empty.

"Miles? Where are you?"

"Back here!" His voice drifted from the adjacent room. "Come in!"

I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open.

"Miles, why didn't you ans-EYAH!"

There stood Miles in the middle of the bedroom in nothing but his boxers, which he was in the process of taking off.

I slammed my hand over my eyes and turned away, my face on fire.

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to intrude!"

I was about to flee from the room when Miles pulled me back in.

"Whoa, slow down, Short Stack! Why are you getting all flustered? This isn't the first time you've seen me naked."

I averted my eyes, feeling my cheeks melt.

"I..um…well, I guess I was just surprised. I mean, I haven't seen you in a while so…it kinda came as a shock."

Miles gave a curt laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, I guess that was pretty stupid of me to do when we **just** met up again. Sorry about that."

"No, no, it's fine." I finally mustered up the courage to look him in the eye. "I shouldn't have made a big deal about it."

An awkward silence hung in the air as we just stared at each other, wondering what to do next.

"Well, if you're already undressed, then," I started to unbutton my shirt. "I should meet you halfway."

"Wait, Young-ja." Miles took my hands in his. "Are you truly comfortable with this? Because if you feel even a tad uneasy, then I won't pressur-."

I placed a finger on his lips and smiled.

"It's fine, Miles. Really. I just realized we are together again, and I guess my emotions got the better of me." I placed his hands on my cheeks. "I will admit I'm a bit nervous since it's been so long, but for the most part, I'm happy. I'm so happy to be with the man I love." I pulled him down for a light peck. "And now, I want to show him just how much I do."

"Oh, Young-ja," Miles breathed out, resting his head on my shoulder and embracing me tightly. "I still can't believe you're here with me. For the past three years, I've dreamt you never left, only to wake up and find you gone." He buried his face into my shoulder. "Now that you're here, I want nothing more than to make sure this is real."

"Then let's make it real."

And with that, Miles lifted his head and slowly inched towards my lips.

My heart pounded in my chest when our lips finally connected.

Then the mood shifted.

Miles flicked the lights off and swept me off my feet, never once breaking the kiss.

I wrapped my legs around his waist as I was placed on the bed and he hovered over me.

Miles soon broke the kiss and stared down at me with dilated pupils.

He brushed stray hairs away from my face with a feather-like touch.

Then, he kissed my forehead, my nose and my cheeks before pausing at my lips.

"I love you" he whispered with half-lidded eyes.

"And I love you." I answered, losing myself in the kiss that followed and the man who gave it and everything else to me.

And as all clothing was stripped away and nothing remained between us, I felt an overwhelming sense of completion that I brought me to tears.

Finally, I felt whole again.

Because that night, I was reunited with my other half.

* * *

During the time Miles and I slept (and _slept_) together back in college, I would find myself hanging on the side of the bed or smooshed against the wall due to the small sleeping space.

This time, however, I woke up on the bed with plenty of blanket to spare, albeit a bit sore in some places.

But that was for another reason.

Giving a sleepy smile, I thought to myself that Miles** finally** learned to sleep properly during our time apart.

'Thank the Lord for that.'

Cuddling into the warm blanket, I was about to drift off to sleep when I was tugged into a warm, firm chest and a kiss was placed on my shoulder.

Amused, I rolled over and faced my scruffy, half-awake boyfriend whose smile was as bright as the sun.

"Any particular reason Mr. "I-hate-mornings" is so cheerful today?" I teased, snuggling against his chest.

"I have my reasons," He buried his nose into my hair. "One of them being this gorgeous woman I woke up next to."

"And the second?" I asked, running my hands down his chest.

"I don't have morning wood."

I snorted and lightly punched his shoulder.

"You perv."

"Hey, I'm just being honest. That shit hurts after a while of pent up frustration, y'know."

"Speaking of pain," I rolled us over so Miles was on his back, and I laid on top of him. "where did you get this scars?"

"My, my! So aggressive, Short Stack!" He laughed, drumming his fingers up my thighs. "Quite sexy, I must say."

"Can it, Miles." I pinched his nose. "Answer the question. How did you get these scars? You told me all of your jobs have been safe."

"And they have! ….In a sense."

"Miles!"

"What? It's bound to happen in my line of work. Not all information is going to come easy. Besides, it's just a few scratches, not like I got possessed by some demon."

"Still," I sighed, absentmindedly stroking the scars on his abdomen. "It concerns me that you're getting hurt on the job. And so often, according to these."

"All jobs have their risks, Short Stack," His voice sounded a little strangled, but I paid it no mind, moving on to a rather large one on his hip. "Nhh! Short Stack!"

"Yeah?"

"You're testing my control here."

"Hm? Am I?" I peeked up at his face, noticing how flushed it had become.

"Yeah, so knock it off!"

Smirking to myself, I decided to mess around with him for a bit.

"I don't want to though." I leaned forward and lingered above his lips while moving my finger across his navel. "Maybe I'm still irked you kept all these injuries from me."

Miles' breath caught in this throat, and he tried to close the gap between us, but I kept him in place.

"Seriously?! You're angry about that?! I kept it from you so you wouldn't worry!" He panted, tangling the sheets in a death grip.

"How sweet of you, my love." I lightly bit on his earlobe, laughing mentally when his body jerked beneath me. "Still angry you kept it from me though."

"Fuck," he moaned, a light sweat now coating his skin. "Fine! If I tell you everything, good or bad, will you stop torturing me?!"

"Do you promise?" I gently ran my nails down his side.

"Ah! Yes, I promise! Cross my fucking heart and all that shit!"

Immediately, I sat back up and lifted my hands away, laughing at how strung up Miles looked.

"Well then," I hummed, climbing off him and stretching. "I guess I'll be leaving now."

I didn't get a chance to move a single muscle before I was pinned down on the bed.

"Oh like hell you are!" Miles glared down at me, "You can't get me worked up, then scurry off without finishing!"

"Hey, I only did that because I love you."

"Well you have a pretty frustrating way of showing it!"

"Aw," I patted his cheek. "Don't pretend you weren't turned on by that."

"So what if I was?!" His face became a cherry red, embarrassment mixing in with the arousal.

I covered my face as laughter shook my body, finding Miles' behavior so freaking adorable.

"Well, I guess we can safely say you aren't the only dominating person in bed. However, I really need to get going. The company only gave me a week to go house hunting."

"You can stay here!" Miles' grip on the sheets tighten, his patience wearing thin.

"Really?! Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you can decorate the place however you want. I really don't give a shit right now to honest."

I weighed the pros and cons in my head before making my decision.

'Well, I can spend more time with Miles, and it is pretty close to the orchestra. But, it is so freaking small and cramped. Hmm. I guess I can make it functional somehow.'

"Alright. I guess we are housemates now!"

"Whoopie-freaking-do! Are we done talking yet?!"

"Pretty much." I giggled.

"Thank God." Miles crashed his lips on mine, immediately drawing my legs up around his waist.

'I'll have to do this more often.' I chuckled to myself, digging my fingers into his back as he entered me. 'It feels good having the upper hand once in a while.'

* * *

We laid there afterward, wrapped in the other's arms and on the verge of slumber.

"Feel better now?" I asked, my voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"Much better. Just don't do that too often. I'll die, and you'll have to explain why to the police."

I gave a light chuckle and rested my head on his chest.

"My first performance is this Saturday. I got you a front row seat."

"Damn right I better have a front row seat! And you better blow my mind because I've been waiting three years for this."

"Wow, way to lay the pressure on a girl, Miles." I smiled, crossing my arms and resting my chin on top of them.

"I know you'll do great, Young-ja." He smiled softly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. "And the entire audience will be awestruck by your brilliance. Trust me."

I closed my eyes and nodded.

"I do, Miles. And I'll support you too. You are doing something wonderful, going to the ends of the Earth in the pursuit of justice. But, just promise me that you won't keep secrets from me, alright? I want to be there for you no matter what."

"It's a deal." Miles smirked, rolling us over and blowing raspberries against my neck.

"Miles!" I shrieked, "You're such a dork!"

"I'm **your** dork though." This time, he rested his head on my chest. "Just like how you're mine."

"Always." I ran my fingers through his hair. "I love you, Miles."

"And I love you, Young-ja." He shifted up and kissed me sweetly before rubbing our noses together. "Welcome home."


	19. So Happy Together

**A/N: Thank for the the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! The title of this chapter is based of the song by The Turtles. haha. And thank you very much for all the name suggestions! Anyways, this chapter is just four screenshots of their life together in that tiny apartment. Oh, someone asked who my faceclaim for Miles was. Well, the one for Young-ja is Kim Seuk Hye, and the one for Miles is Tyson Ballou.**

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

**-Chores-**

**Young-ja**

Tchaikovsky's "Violin Concerto in D major" echoed throughout the performance hall, capturing the attention of the entire audience young and old alike.

I smiled from my positon on stage, never weary of the astonished looks on their faces.

It had been two months since my official debut, and the Orchestra Hall has never been busier. People apparently adore the 'youth-twist' on the classics, as the critics call it.

Not all of the reviews have been glowing, but those are far and few between.

'Can't please them all, I guess.'

The concerto was soon brought to an end as the conductor swept out his baton, ceasing all music.

After a moment of silence, the audience shot to their feet and applause filled the hall.

The conductor took a bow before gesturing to me, the soloist, and I followed suit, still high on the adrenaline rush.

"Let's have another round of applause for Ms. Young-ja Park!"

As I received my own standing ovation, I couldn't help but shed a few tears while smiling like an idiot.

Years ago, if someone told me I would be a star in a world renowned orchestra, I would've laughed it off.

Now, in the spotlight with hundreds of people cheering for me, I still couldn't wrap my head around it.

So all I could do was smile and pray this feeling of euphoria would never fade away.

* * *

"Good job tonight, Young-ja!" Peter, one of the cellists, grinned, patting me on the back. "Care to grab a few drinks with the others?"

"Thank you, Peter," I replied, pulling on my coat and grabbing my purse, "But I can't tonight. Maybe some other time."

He nodded and said goodbye before heading out with the others.

Once I made sure my violin was secure in its case, I scurried outside into the cool night air and hailed a taxi.

Exhaustion finally caught up with me as the city flew by in the window, but it was a rewarding kind of exhaustion.

The kind that you knew was well deserved.

After paying the taxi driver, I trudged up the stairway to the third floor and unlocked the door to our apartment.

During my stay here, I had managed to mold the shoebox into something a little more welcoming. The bare floor now had carpeting, the cruddy walls had been painted a lovely light pink, and the kitchen actually had a decent stock for two.

The lights were off, so I made sure to put my things away quietly and tiptoed to the bedroom.

Miles was slouched over his desk, papers scattered everywhere and reading glasses hanging off his face.

I chuckled to myself, wishing I had my camera with me.

Since my debut, Miles has never missed one of my concerts, but there was a break in the case he'd been working on, so he had to stay home.

"_I can still come pick you up," He offered as I got ready to leave. "Really, I don't mind."_

"_I know, Miles, and I appreciate it but taking the taxi for one day won't kill me." I reassured him, trying to erase that worried look in his eyes. "I'll be home by eleven so make sure you do the dishes, alright? They've been soaking in the sink for long enough."_

"_Alright," He sighed, resigning to his fate, before leaning down and kissing me. "Be careful. I love you."_

"_I love you too."_

Grinning at the memory, I decided to make myself a quick sandwich before waking him up so he could lie down comfortably.

"Oh, Miles." I sighed, practically skipping to the kitchen. "You are such a lovely-LITTLE SHIT!"

Stacks of dishes rested in the now murky sink water, threatening to tip over at the smallest tremor.

Pissed off, I raced back into the bedroom and flicked the lights on.

"WAKE UP, YOU LAZY BUM!"

Miles immediately shot out of his chair, head whipping back and forth, searching for some unknown threat.

"What?! What happened?!"

"Didn't I tell you to do those dishes this morning?!" I glared at him, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

The twit stared at me for a moment, still half asleep, before it finally registered in his brain.

"Oh yeah," He scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze from my heated one. "Kinda forgot about that. My bad."

"Your bad?! Miles, you **never** do the freaking dishes! It is your **only** chore around here!"

Miles said nothing, just adjusted his misaligned glasses with a sheepish look.

I sighed and rubbed my face, exhaustion all but leaking from my ears now.

"Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you. It's been a long day for the both of us, but I still expect you to go and do the dishes **right now** like you promised."

He groaned in annoyance but went to the kitchen anyways, grumbling under his breath.

"Forget to do the dishes once, and she holds it against me for the rest of my life…"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned against the doorway, feeling a headache coming on.

"I need a bath." I muttered, slugging over to the bathroom while Miles tackled the Great Wall of Chinaware.

"And remember to be gentle with the cups!" I called back. "You've already broken three of them!"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

* * *

**-Laundry-**

**Miles**

Living with Short Stack has been great.

**Really**.

It's been nice having someone to wake up to and converse with on a regular basis.

She has also given the apartment a makeover with useless knickknacks and all that other HGTV shit. I can't say I'm a fan of all the cutesy additions to the pad, but if it makes her happy, then I can deal with it.

One thing I cannot deal with, however, is one of Short Stack's habits.

What is this habit, you ask?

Well, how can I put this delicately?

Oh, I know! SHE LEAVES HER FUCKING CLOTHES EVERYWHERE!

On the floor, on the couch, in the bathroom, everywhere!

Sometimes I expect to find one of her socks in the fridge!

At first, I didn't mind it, just reminded her to pick her crap up.

But, after four months of tripping over her jackets and finding her bra hanging on the shower faucet, I was at the end of my rope.

"Short Stack, it's time for a fucking intervention!" I announced, stomping into the living room where she was perched on the couch, watching the Food Network Channel.

"Hmm?" She turned to face me, confusion etched across her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Look, if you want to start a kinky scavenger hunt, then fine. But, if you're not," I held out one of her undershirts that I found draped over the shower curtain. "don't leave your clothes around the house!"

"Hey, it's only to dry them. The bathroom is a perfect place, and it is cheaper than using the dryer downstairs."

"Oh that must explain why you leave your shirts on the ground. So my feet can dry them as I fall flat on my face, right?"

She rolled her eyes at my remark and snatched the undershirt from my grip.

"Fine, I'll try to pick up after myself AND find someplace else to hang my lingerie."

"Bless you, Warden." I gave her a mock bow. "But you better go a step above 'trying' and actually do it."

"Fin-e." She groaned, drawing out the 'n'. "I **promise** **to** hang my clothes or place them in the laundry basket when I'm done with them."

"Hallelujah!" I threw my arms in the air. "Praise the Lord!"

"Oh shut up."

* * *

**-Painting-**

**Miles**

After turning in my report and receiving payment from my client, I drove home, feeling pretty damn good.

'Maybe I'll take Short Stack out tonight. One of those nice sit-down restaurants that look over the city that she always loves.'

Humming to myself, I parked the jeep and sprinted up the stairs, excited for the upcoming night on the town.

"I'm home, Short Stack!" I called out, closing the door behind me and kicking my shoes off. "I got paid today, so get all prettied up! I'm taking you out for dinner!"

No reply.

"Short Stack?"

She doesn't work today, so why isn't she answering?

"Young-ja?" I peeked into the kitchen. No Short Stack.

"Young-ja?!" No one in the bathroom.

Just as I was about to give her a call, I finally noticed there was music blasting from the bedroom.

"Young-ja?" I opened the door. "Are you i-?"

The words caught in my throat as I took in the room's state.

The once pasty, white walls were now a light blue with flowers and rainbows painted on them. And there stood Short Stack, dancing away on the blue tarp with a paintbrush in her hand.

She was singing along to Savage Garden's "I Want You", one of her all-time cheesy 90s favorites.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, enjoying the very embarrassing, but very cute, spectacle.

Though she has relaxed over the past few years, Short Stack still is hesitant to let lose in front of people at times. When she first moved in, the landlords invited us out to dinner, and she spent an hour coming up with conversation topics to prevent "looking like an idiot in front of your neighbors".

In response, I told her both of them were partially blind and deaf, so nothing she could say or do would offend them.

I was sentence to the couch that night.

I chuckled at the memory and turned my attention back to my dancing/singing girlfriend who was painting fluffy-looking cloud.

Her illustrations have gotten better over the years.

Beforehand, I couldn't make heads or tails of her chicken scratch.

While she was dipping the paintbrush in the white bucket, I decided to make my presence known.

Tiptoeing behind her, I crouched down and grabbed her shoulders, shouting, "Hi, Short Stack!"

She screamed and threw the brush into the air, splattering the drying blue wall with white paint.

"Miles!" She decked me in the arm, the smile completely gone from her face. "Can't you greet people normally?! What if I got paint all over you?!"

"I almost give you a heart attack, and the only thing you're worried about is getting paint on me?" I laughed, wiping a blue smear off her cheek. "You're quite the messy painter, my dear."

"Neh." She stuck her tongue out at me. "I was just trying to brighten the room up."

"And I see you've used my clothes too." I gestured to the baggy shirt and khakis on her body.

"They were already dirty, so…." Then her eyes widened. "Oh, Miles! I'm sorry for not asking! If you wanted-!"

I shut her up with a kiss.

"Calm down," I whispered, pulling away and enjoying that enamored glaze in her eyes. "They look better on you anyways. Besides, it's pretty hot to see you in my clothes."

She rolled her eyes with a snort and backed away, wiping her hands on a rag.

"I'll keep that in mind, Miles. Anyways, what are you doing home so early? I thought you were meeting with a client."

"I did meet with them, and~" I whipped out an envelope, waving it in her face. "I got paid~! So go change into something beautiful because I'm taking you out tonight, my love!"

Her cheeks reddened, and she flashed that bashful smile I love so much.

"I would love to go, but I need to finish this wall first. Give me ten more minutes."

"Let me help then." I tossed my jacket to the side and rolled my sleeves up. "Believe it or not, I know my way around a paintbrush pretty well."

I grabbed one of the spare brushes from the box and was about to dip it into the water when Short Stack grabbed me by the wrist.

"Wait! You are dressed so nicely, Miles! Please change into something else."

I glanced down at my apparel: a simple white button-up and blue jeans.

"This is your definition of nice, Short Stack? Maybe you should pick up a fashion magazine once in a while."

"Oh, shut up." She snorted, pulling me up off the tarp. "Just go and change so we can finish this and then you can spoil me at Denver's finest restaurant."

"Yes, ma'am!" I saluted, racing out of the room.

But, before I reached the hallway, I whipped back around.

"By the way, Short Stack, you're cute when you dance. I love that seal-like wiggle of yours."

"Miles, you were watching me?! Get back here!"

I cackled as I raced around the tiny apartment with her hot on my heels.

"I didn't say it was **bad**, _cara mia_!" I called out, hopping over the dining table. "You just look like an adorable seal when you dance!"

"Shut up and get back here so I can pour this paint can down your shirt!"

That wall wasn't finished for another two hours.

* * *

**-Morning Light-**

**Young-ja**

Sharing a bed with Miles is a gamble.

There is a 50/50 chance of waking up all snuggled up next to him or waking up smooshed against the wall while he is stretched out over the bed with all the blankets.

Typically, it is the unfortunate gamble.

So, after six months of kissing the wall, I vowed to extract some sweet revenge.

I snatched a marker up from Miles' desk then scrambled on top of him, uncapping my weapon with resolve.

"Payback time, you bed hogger." I snickered, proceeding to draw all over his face and chest.

With a satisfied 'hmm', I clicked the cap back on, crawled back to my side of the bed, and waited.

'This is going to be good~.'

About an hour later, I felt Miles stir, and I had to contain to giggles at what was to come.

"Morning." He leaned over and kissed my cheek, 'waking me up'.

"Mhmm, good morning, Miles." I rubbed my eyes, hoping my acting was convincing.

He crawled out of bed and stretched.

"I'm going to take a piss."

"Thank you for the notice."

He trudged out to the hallway, and I immediately sat up, clutching a pillow in my arms.

One second passed.

Two seconds passed.

Three-

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY FACE?!"

I exploded into a fit of laughter, burying my face into the pillow.

'Oh my gosh, this is great!'

Miles stomped back into the room and pointed to his face.

"YOUNG-JA! DID YOU DO THIS?!"

All across his face, neck, and chest were swirls, poop emojis, and dicks.

I tried to reply, but I was too busy clutching my aching abdomen and 'attempting' to cease my laughter.

"You little-!" He tackled me from the side and pinned me to the bed. "Why the hell did you draw all this crap on my face?!"

"Oh, just some revenge!" I smirked. "If I'm going to sleep next to you, then you need to improve your sleep habits! I'm tired of waking up to a wall in my face."

"Then wake me the fuck up! Don't draw dicks on my face! You always tell me to grow up, but you can be immature too!"

Miles wasn't furious anymore, just peeved.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Miles." I gave him the Bambi eyes, cackling internally when I saw him gulp. "I promise not to do it again if you try to stop being such a bed hog."

He glared down at me a while longer, finally looking away when I shifted the Bambi eyes into full throttle.

"Shit, fine!" Miles groaned, yanking me to my feet. "But you're going to wash this off! I'm not going out with your creations on me."

"Yeah, yeah." I snickered, leading him to the bathroom.

I set him down on the edge of the tub before getting a wet washcloth and rubbing his face.

"Y'know," I smiled. "This reminds me of our first time together."

"How?" He squeezed his eyes shut as I moved over to his forehead. "As I recall, you didn't draw on my face."

"Well, you didn't spend the night, remember?"

_It was the day I finally confessed to Miles_

_After we picked ourselves off the soapy pavement, we scurried up to my dorm room, giggling like the teenagers we were._

"_You sure Mary Ann isn't going to walk in on us?" Miles asked as he pinned me against the door the moment I locked it. _

"_Yeah," I breathed out, sliding my hands down his chest. "She is out with her friends today. We have the room to ourselves until 8."_

"_Fuck yes." _

_We've all heard and seen those movies/books that portray a couple's first time as magical and perfect._

_Well, I can say with complete honesty, our first time wasn't a Hollywood blockbuster._

"_Ouch!" We both shot back as we banged our foreheads together. _

"_You trying to break my nose, Short Stack?!"_

"_Well, I didn't know you were going to plunge in at the same time I was!"_

_Once the pain subsided, we got into the mood again, kissing and groping each other. _

_In the back of my mind, I was panicking; this was my first time, after all._

_I felt my knees hit the back of my bed, and with a little push, we both fell onto the mattress._

_And we banged our foreheads __**again**__._

"_OUCH!"_

"_Dammit, how does it look so easy in the movies?!"_

"_Because it's a freaking movie, Miles!"_

"_Do you want me to shove dirty, soapy water in your face again?"_

"_I'm just nervous, alright?!" I crossed my arms and averted my eyes. "This is my first time, and I don't know what to expect."_

_Miles said nothing, just scooted closer to me and cupped my cheeks in his hands._

"_Hey," He smiled, "I'm just as nervous as you are. This is my first time too."_

"_What?!" I pulled away from him, mouth agape. "Are you serious?!"_

"_Of course it is! Do you think I'm a manwhore?!"_

"_N-no!" I snickered, covering my face. "It's just that….you're so handsome, so I figured…."_

_He squinted at me with an unamused gaze before grasping my shoulders._

"_Let's….just continue, shall we?"_

_So Miles pulled me on top of him, and we started kissing again._

_Eventually, we moved to the next step: stripping._

_I find it amazing that people can keep their lips locked, even while undressing each other. _

_Miles and I had a bit of trouble in that department._

"_Why the heck are you wearing skinny jeans in 88 degree weather, Miles?!"_

"_Well, why the hell is your bra so fucking hard to unhook?!"_

"_It's not a Rubix Cube! Just unhook it!"_

_After some trial and error, we finally sat in front of each other without a shard of clothing on our bodies._

_Both of our faces were beet red as we took in the other's body for the first time._

"_S-say something!" I snapped, feeling like curling into a ball and dying._

"_Short Stack."_

"_Y-yes?"_

"_Your boobs are top notch." He smirked, giving me a thumbs up._

"_You freaking pervert!" I attacked him with the pillow, my cheeks burning. "You're supposed to be serious about this!"_

"_Ah, but all good sex is full of laughs!" He snatched the pillow up and threw it across the room. "So, let's throw all the technicalities out the window and have fun."_

_Miles pulled me into his arms and held me, rubbing his hands down my back._

"_Hey, can I ask for something stupid and cliché?"_

"_Depends on what it is." I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat._

"_Could you…say it again, what you said in the parking lot?"_

_My eyes shot open, and butterflies erupted in my chest._

"_Why?" I asked, looking up at him._

"_Because…" He bit his lips as his cheeks flushed and his heartrate increased. "Well….just because, alright?!"_

_I giggled and kissed his clavicle, noting how it made him jump._

"_I love you, Miles."_

_He sighed in content and lifted my chin up, gazing straight into my eyes._

"_And I love you, Young-ja. Thank you for giving someone like me the time of day."_

_I chuckled and shook my head._

"_You're worth every moment, Miles. Never forget that."_

_I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him with all my might, feeling the nerves fade away._

_I just wanted to be with him, completely._

_Without breaking contact, Miles eased me back and pulled the blanket over us._

"_Wait," I gasped as Miles started kissing down my chest. "Did you have protection?"_

"_Duh." He flicked his wrists and suddenly, there was a condom in his hand._

"_How the hell did you get that?! Where you planning on jumping my bones, regardless of my answer?!"_

"_NO!" He flicked my nose. "Student Life was giving them out for "Safe Sex" Week, and I just happened to have it now."_

_I glared up at him, making sure he was telling the truth._

"_Are you sure?"_

"_YES! God, can't we just bang in peace?!" _

_I snorted and nodded._

"_Proceed, Sir Seduction."_

* * *

_Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of the bed creaking, and our moans echoing off the wall._

_And, for that reason, is the reason why we didn't hear the door unlock until Mary Ann announced herself._

"_Young-ja, I'm ba-Whoa!"_

_At that moment, time froze._

_There was Mary Ann, one hand on the door knob and the other holding her Gucci bag. Her blonde hair was frizzing out, and her eyes were as wide as saucers._

_And there was Miles and I. The blanket had slipped off of us and was hanging around Miles' waist, who was on top of me. Both of us had messy hair, flushed faces, and that "Oh Shit" expression on our faces._

_No one said a word. I mean, what could anyone say?! _

_Finally, Mary Ann cleared her throat._

"_Um, I'll…just go wait outside." She whispered, slowly easing out the room and closing the door behind her._

_Once she was gone, Miles and I looked at each other, wondering if my roommate had __**actually**__ walked in on us. _

_Then, we erupted into laughter._

"_O-oh my God," Miles cried, tears coming to his eyes. "Did that just happened?!"_

"_Yes!" I shrieked, covering my face. "We just scarred Mary Ann for life!"_

_It was no laughing matter, but for some reason, we couldn't stop._

_So, we laid there in that tiny dorm bed of mine, holding each other and laughing our asses off._

_And that was how we spend our first time together. _

"I still don't understand how drawing shit on my face equates to our first time." Miles pointed out as I finished wiping away my handiwork.

"Because~" I cooed, tossing the rag away and standing between his legs, draping my arms over his shoulders. "Both occasions are the only times I've ever laughed until I was blue in the face. And, they involve embarrassing you."

Miles scoffed and yanked me closer, his hands on my hips.

"You're a crazy lady, Short Stack," He kissed me on the nose. "But that is why I'm in love with you."

I laughed and buried my face into his shoulder, wanting this moment to never end.

"Promise me we will always be like this. Even when we're old, we will never have a dull moment together."

Miles laughed and kissed my temple with a feather-like touch.

"Not even death will keep me from being in your life, Young-ja. You can always count on that. I promise."

I nodded and clutched him tighter, feeling this odd sense of ruin at his words.

"You better keep it your promise, Miles."

"I will, Young-ja. I will."

**A/N: Tad bit of foreshadowing at the end. Lol. And "I Want You" by Savage Garden is such a catchy song! :D There should 1-2 more chapters until the Mount Massive area! **


	20. The Ninth and Tenth Marker

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! Thank you very much for the names suggestions too! :D**

**And welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

The months flew by, and before I knew it, two years had passed since I began living with Miles.

Every day has been an adventure, even if it just involves us playing Pikmin 2 and eating Papa John's.

I had also grown used to the "Shoebox" and its lack of proper ventilation. But, according to Miles, my "Short Stack charm" shoots the homey factor up a notch.

I also got my license, so I don't have to rely on Miles or public transport anymore; Miles still insists on picking me up from work though when I work late.

As for my ride, it is not a Jeep…. or _**any**_ car, exactly.

No, I got a motorcycle.

Last Christmas, Miles and I went down to the motorcycle showroom near the Steak n Shake, and I fell in love with a red BMW Roadster 1200.

I approached Miles with the idea at dinner, and he slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "**Sign me the fuck up**!"

So, I have a motorcycle. Hot damn, huh?

Since then, Miles and I have made a habit of going outside the city and racing each other on the dirt roads.

So far, the score is Miles: 10 and Me: 9.

Then, after we race around for a bit, I place my bike in the Jeep's backseat and we get lost in the countryside.

Getting lost in the countryside is therapeutic, like all of the woes of city life fade away with the crisp air and rolling hills.

And sometimes we pack a lunch and have a picnic in the flower fields, watching the clouds afterwards with full bellies and warm, fuzzy feelings.

I really treasure these moments with Miles where it's just the two of us surrounded by nature and holding hands.

I love him so much, and if there is anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with, it's him.

And it's perfect timing.

I mean, we're both in our late twenties, and if we didn't intend to make this last forever, Miles and I would've split long ago.

We've been friends for ten years, dating for nine of them, and we are still going strong.

If Miles and I can survive all the obstacles life has thrown our way thus far, then I believe we can make this relationship work for good.

Neither of us have brought marriage up, but we acknowledge that it will probably happen soon, like some unwritten promise.

I intend to change that tonight.

Men aren't the only ones who can pop the question, y'know. I even got a ring: a plain gold band with silver swirls on the side.

Miles is not the one for wearing jewelry, but when I saw this gem in the window, I knew it was made for him. Men rarely wear engagement rings, but Miles will….if he says 'yes', of course.

Tonight is our ninth anniversary, and the possible beginning of something wonderful.

I just hope everything goes according to plan.

* * *

"You alright, Short Stack?" Miles waved his hand in front of my face, snapping me out of a daze I wasn't aware I'd fallen in.

"Oh!" I shook my head, feeling like an idiot. "I'm fine. Just lost in thought. "

We were walking around Washington Park, swinging our hands back and forth, and admiring the sunset resting over the trees.

"You've been lost in thought the entire night." He tightened his grip on my hand. "Is everything alright? You're usually a ball of energy on our dates."

I shrugged and shoved my free hand into my pocket, clutching the velvet ring box like a lifeline.

I didn't mean to act all distant and aloof, but the sunset felt like an hourglass, counting down to the moment of truth.

'Oh God, I hope my palms aren't sweaty.'

Miles halted in place and tugged me towards him, a concerned and serious glaze in his eyes.

"Young-ja, tell me the truth. Is everything alright? W-wait, did someone at work harass you?! I swear, I'll kill the fucking bastard! Tell me his name, and I'll figure out where the fucker lives."

I quickly shook my head and sat him down on a nearby bench, figuring it was now or never.

"No, Miles, no one has been harassing me. I just…." I covered my face and paced back and forth, feeling like my heart was about to burst from my rib cage.

'Why is this so hard?! This is Miles, the boy who insulted me upon our first meeting before declaring our friendship at a Burger King! He was the 18 year old punk who sassed professors, forgot his pencil case on a regular basis, and parkoured his way out of the English building after discovering Dr. Williamson was sleeping with one of the lunch ladies!'

I slowed my pacing to a stop and peeked at my obviously freaked out boyfriend who just witnessed his girlfriend having a self-therapy session.

'And yet, here he is. A 27-year old investigative journalist whose brought several national and international corrupt dealings to light because, underneath all that sarcasm and tough guy talk, he has a huge heart. And a large section of that heart is for me, just like mine is for him.'

I took a deep breath and stepped towards him.

'Alright, I'm going to do it.'

"Miles!" I started, my tone harsher than I intended, and he jumped in response. "I have something to tell you!"

"What?!" He held his hands out. "Are you ill?! Did something happen to your parents?! Tell me!"

"Miles, you are one of the greatest people I know, if not the greatest. These past ten years of knowing you have a fantastic. At first, I thought you were a smartass and a bum without direction. Now, I still think you are a smartass, but you are a brilliant journalist who fights for what he believes in, and I'm so proud of you. You are sweet, romantic, dorky, ingenious, strong, idiotic, and just….Miles. My Miles. And I'm in love with you, more than you'll ever know. So," I whipped the box out and got down on one knee, watching Miles' eyes widen in shock, "will you marry me, Miles Upshur?"

He said nothing, just gaped at me like I grew three heads, which did nothing to soothe me at all.

Moments passed, and I felt my heart shrivel with every passing second.

'Maybe I was wrong?! I was wrong! Oh God, I'm such an idiot! Just kill me n-!'

My inner meltdown was interrupted when Miles flew off the bench and joined me on the ground.

"Did you-did you just propose to me?"

My body was shaking so fiercely that all I could do was nod.

"Like _**propose to me**_," He enunciated each word with his hands, "You bought a ring, and proposed to _**me**_."

"Yes!"

"You..bought a _**ring**_ from _**a store**_, a _**jewelry**__**store**_. _**A store**_ that sells-."

"YES!" I shrieked, wishing the twit would hurry up and answer me! "I'M PROPOSING TO YOU. ME, PARK YOUNG-JA, YOUR GIRLFRIEND FOR NEARLY A DECADE!"

Then, Miles did something that surprised me.

He shot to his feet and punched a nearby tree, chanting "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"M-miles?!"

My steaming boyfriend whipped around and stuck his finger in my face, causing me to stumble back.

"Is this your idea of revenge?!"

"Revenge?!"

"Yes! Revenge for nine years ago when I beat you in the race!"

"What race?!"

"The race for who would ask out the other first!"

I threw my arms in the air, all fear completely evaporated.

"What are you talking about?! This isn't about revenge or anything! I proposed because I want to marry you! Not to settle some childish competition from when we were _**nineteen**_! Why the hell are you getting so upset anyways?!"

"_**Because**_," He dug into his pocket and held a similar velvet box out. "_**I**_ was going to propose to _**you**_!"

And the world went dead silent.

* * *

From a stranger's point of view, the two of us must've made quite a scene: A 6'3 man with disheveled hair and a pissed off expression was shoving a ring box into the face of a 5'5 woman with a similar ring box in her hand and a 'deer-caught-in-headlights' look on her face.

If I was the third party, I'd probably laugh and take a photo.

Alas, I was not, so I continued to stand there like a twit, trying to glue my brain back together.

When I finally felt my soul return, the first thing I did was deck Miles in the gut.

"**You asshole! You had me worried! I thought you didn't want to marry me, and I had it all wrong for the past two years!"**

"**Of course I want to marry you!"** Miles fired back, clutching his abdomen. **"I've wanted to marry you since you left for Germany! That is why I'm so angry! I wanted to be the one to ask the question and sweep you off your feet like those freaking Disney Princes' you adore so much!"**

My fists shook as I reached out and latched on his shirt, relief flooding through my body, slowing drowning out the fury.

'I wasn't wrong. He wants to marry me. **My God, he wants to marry me!**'

"I don't want to marry a prince," I whispered, trying to soothe my tone and gazed up into his eyes. "I want to marry you."

His cheeks flushed a dark red, and I giggled as he covered his mouth and averted his eyes.

"Damn," He mumbled. "You just shot down all the cheesy romantic lines I looked up. Care to hear them anyways?"

I shook my head and backed away, finding it adorable he actually did some research nonetheless.

"If you're going to propose to me, then speak as yourself, not a book."

Miles gulped and scratched his cheek, his face turning redder by the minute.

"What?" I laughed, "You kick up a fuss about me asking first, and now that I give you a second chance, you're tongue tied?"

"Cut the shit!" He glared down at me. "I just need to get my thoughts in order."

'Now you know how I felt.'

Taking a deep breath, Miles got down on one knee and took my hand in his.

"When I first meet you, I thought you were the biggest nerd ever. You always handed your assignments in on time and had like five planners for all your classes. I never thought to bother with you until you stormed in that rainy day and I realized there was more to you than that "Triple A+ loser" front you give off. And asking for your number that day was the best damn decision I ever made. As time went on and we got to know each other, you slowly opened up, showing me how brilliant, stubborn, and cheeky you can be. And, slowly, I began to fall in love with you. Your witty comebacks, your benevolence, your determination, how utterly stupid you look when you dance, all of the qualities that make you Young-ja Park, my best friend and my love," Then he lifted the velvet box up and opened it, the sapphire on top of the silver band shining in the streetlight. "So, will you give me the honor and privilege of becoming your husband?"

I smiled and nodded as tears ran down my cheeks.

"Yes, Miles. A million times yes." I laughed as he slipped the ring onto my finger. "And now, will you answer my proposal?"

"Do you need to ask?" He lifted me up and spun around. "You bet your ass my answer is yes!"

I slipped the gold band onto his finger, and we admired both symbols of our love.

Still wrapped in his arms, I rested my forehead against his and sighed blissfully.

"This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Does it feel like a dream?" He asked, shifting his head up and kissing my nose

"Kind of." I confessed. "I just can't believe we're actually engaged."

"Well you better believe it, Short Stack." He smiled, placing me back on the ground but not letting go. "Yes, ma'am, you are about to get hitched to Miles Upshur, Journalist Extraordinaire."

I snorted and flicked his nose.

"You're such a dweeb. But you're my dweeb." I grinned, snuggling my face against his chest. "I guess we have a wedding to plan and parents to call."

"Yes. But first," He tilted my chin up, that infuriating smirk on his face. "May I kiss my bride-to-be?"

My response was to pull his face to mine and kiss him with all my might.

First, we became friends, then boyfriend/girlfriend, then significant other, and now, engaged.

**Freaking engaged!**

Through the good and the bad, we've surpassed every milestone in our relationship.

And now, we're about to complete the final one.

* * *

We were married in a civil ceremony three months later at city hall. It wasn't a fancy ceremony by any means, since we decided to focus on buying a house instead.

A real house on the outskirts of Denver, not a shoebox off the highway.

Both of our parents were there, Miles' cheering and celebrating, while mine clapping politely with resigned glances.

'Just when you guys finally get used to me dating him, we get married. Hehehe!'

I wore a simple white sundress, flats, and had my hair pulled back into a bun with flower hairpins.

Miles wore a white dress shirt, black dress pants, a button up vest, and Converses.

In short, we looked pretty damn good.

One of the secretaries gave me a bouquet of hydrangeas, so that is what I carried as the two of us got ready to walk into the tiny chapel.

We stared at each other like idiots, huge grins and all.

"Ready, _Cara Mia?_" Miles whispered, holding his arm out.

I nodded and lacing my arm with his.

"You bet your ass I am."

Then the doors were opened, and we proceed down the aisle.

My parents sat to the left, Miles' sat to the right, and a Justice of the Peace stood at the front of the room.

Once we reached front and faced each other, the Justice of the Peace began the opening remarks.

"Friends and Family of the bride and groom, welcome and thank you for being here on this important day. We are gathered together to celebrate the very special love between Young-ja Park and Miles Upshur, by joining them in marriage. All of us need and desire to love and to be loved. And the highest form of love between two people is within a healthy, committed relationship. Young-ja and Miles, your marriage today is the public and legal joining of your souls that have already been united as one in your hearts. Marriage will allow you a new environment to share your lives together, standing together to face life and the world, hand-in-hand. Marriage is going to expand you as individuals, define you as a couple, and deepen your love for one another. To be successful, you will need strength, courage, patience and a really good sense of humor. So, let your marriage be a time of waking each morning and falling in love with each other all over again."

Then he turned and held out the wedding bands on a pillow. They were a gift from both of our parents, a matching set of silver bands with hearts engraved onto them.

The Justice of the Peace handed my ring to Miles and cleared his throat.

"Miles, do you take Young-ja to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in blissful marriage? Will you faithfully cherish and honor her, encourage, comfort and support her, to attend her in sickness and in health, forswearing all others, remaining completely loyal to her, as long as you both shall live?"

"I will." He smiled widely. "Every damn day and for all fucking eternity."

The Upshurs laughed in the background, while my parents coughed behind their palms.

I rolled my eyes with an amused chuckle as Miles slipped the band onto my finger.

Then, the Justice of the Peace handed Miles' wedding band to me.

"Young-ja, do you take Miles to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in blissful marriage? Will you faithfully cherish and honor him, encourage, comfort and support him, attend him in sickness and in health, forswearing all others, remaining completely loyal to him, as long as you both shall live?"

"With all my heart." I beamed, slipping the band onto his finger.

"Then by the power vested in me by the State of Colorado, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

"Don't mind if I do." Miles grabbed my waist and swung around, dipping me back before kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

Sophia and Kamal whistled and screamed, causing the both of us to break apart and laugh.

The Justice of the Peace congratulated us before handing our marriage certificate over with a warm smile on his wrinkly face.

We thanked him and waltzed out to the hallway with our parents trailing behind.

"Congratulations!" Sophia squealed, pulling both of us into a bone crushing embrace. "_Mio figlio prediletto_! I'm so happy for you! And Young-ja! _Mia nuora_!" (daughter-in-law)

Once she released us, and we caught our breathes, Kamal gave each of us a more gentle embrace.

"Miles, my boy, congratulations. Young-ja, my dear, welcome to the family. Bless you for taking pity on our poor, snarky son."

"**Dad, it's my wedding day! Find your chill!"**

Kamal and I laughed at his outburst, knowing Miles will never lose that short fuse of his.

"Young-ja." I whipped around to find my parents standing there. "We… wish you both of the best. Congratulations."

I smiled and hugged them both, grateful they came without a fuss, despite how much I know they still dislike Miles' attitude.

Once I pulled away, Miles stepped forward and shook both Father's and Mother's hands.

"Thank you for giving us your blessing, Mr. and Mrs. Park. I know you aren't crazy about me. But know this. I'm crazy about your daughter, and I promise to love her for all my days."

My parents looked at each other before looking back at him.

"We know you will."

It really was a dream come true.

I was married to the man I love, and my parents were accepting it.

I wanted to scream and dancing in circles, but I settled for snuggling against Miles and taking his hand in mine.

"Good job, Mr. Parky-poo!" Sophia cheered, smacking my Father on the back and nearly sending him to the ground. "And don't worry! Our children are one-of-a-kind and meant for each other! You just wait and see."

Kamal chuckled at his wife's antics before herding us towards the door.

"C'mon, let's go celebrate this new addition to the family."

Father hobbled to the door with Mother supporting him as Kamal and Sophia followed, chatting about all the wonderful restaurants in Denver.

Finally alone, Miles and I clutched each other tightly, enjoying this wonderful new feeling.

"Mrs. Young-ja Upshur." Miles sighed, his head resting on top of mine. "I love the sound of that."

"As do I." I hummed as he rocked us back and forth. "A new chapter of our lives has just begun. What do you think will happen?"

"I don't know, Short Stack." He responded, cupping my face in his hands before drawing my lips to his once more. "But I do know it's bound to be **one hell** of a ride with you next to me. I can promise you that."

"Why do I get this sense of dread when you say that?" I teased, wrapping my arms around my husband's waist. "It's our wedding day. Don't jinx anything."

**A/N: And now, I can finally move to the Mount Massive chapter! And don't worry, we will still see what married life is like for Miles and Young-ja throughout the rest of the story. Now, I have something to ask you guys! I already have an idea of what I'm going to do, but I want to know what you guys think might happen or would like to happen. I'm not going to promise to put it in, but I want to see what you guys think. I know most of you have probably read some other Outlast fanfic and have some stuff you would like to see happen in the Asylum. Thank you very much! :D**


	21. The Promise

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! Please continue to send in what you think/want to happen in the story! I love reading them!**

**And welcome all new readers! Enjoy!**

(Miles)

**THE DEVIL'S BARGAIN**

**How Murkoff Turned the Global Water Crisis into a Billion Dollar Revenue Stream**

by Miles Upshur

May 9, 2013 2:19pm

ACCRA, GHANA

_Nine-year old Akosua stands before the water-vending machine with its bright "ALSAB" logo, a few bills clutched in her small hand. You can still see the blank place on the machine's hull where the words "Freeflow Global Charities" was pried away last year._

_She explains that 2 cedis (about $1) will buy her five liters of purified water, which her Cholera-afflicted mother desperately needs. But 17 cedis at the Worldfree Clinic would buy her mother the course of antibiotics that would shorten the disease' course and possibly save her life. It's a terrible choice for a child to make, and one facing more and more of the world's 1.6 billion inhabitants without access to clean drinking water._

_More than a quarter of Accra's citizens buy their water from Wellspring Industries, either monthly through their taps, or directly from the ubiquitous, bright yellow Alsab machines. What few Ghanians know, however, is the hidden connection between Wellspring Industries, Alsab, Freeflow Global Charities, and Worldfree Clinics._

_All of them are subsidiaries of the multinational Murkoff Corporation._

_In an increasingly clear partnership between Western Capitalism and Third World corruption, the Murkoff Corporation has used its dozens of subsidiaries to open back doors into selling the source of life to drought-starved populations in Africa, India, and Southeast Asia._

_Here's how it works: a newly-started charity, fueled largely by donations, establishes a water supply and sewage systems for communities whose well water has been rendered non-potable by industrial runoff. Murkoff gets the tax write-off for charitable spending, while their subsidiary Alsab gets the profits for building and installing the system. When the cost of running the system becomes too great, the charity (in Ghana's case, Freeflow Global) declares bankruptcy and abandons the project. Then Murkoff subsidiary Wellspring Industries (or another Murkoff shell company) steps in and offers the local government completion and maintenance of the project in return for the construction fee and complete deregulation of the water supply, allowing Wellspring/Murkoff to name the price of the population's water._

_As Murkoff is also the owner of the three most active pharmaceutical manufacturers to the Third World, they'll profit nicely whether the locals choose clean water or cholera._

_It's only the latest in Murkoff's near-century long history of playing both sides against the middle, maximizing profits at the cost of human rights. Whether licensing aggressively pollinating, genetically-modified rice with a built in "suicide gene" to India, flipping blood diamond real estate in Angola and Sierra Leone, or peddling amphetamines to the Nazis in World War II, you can't swing a dead cat in an arena of human suffering without knocking over a Murkoff piggy bank._

_Water is fast becoming the new oil, an issue largely ignored by the developed world, by wealthy Americans and Europeans comfortable with their hot showers and iced drinks._

_But earlier this year Murkoff subsidiary Heartland Springs Charity began construction of three Alsab-built water purification plants in Detroit. _

_Welcome to New World Water._

I sat back in my chair and read over the article I just wrote.

Of all the corporations I've come across, Murkoff takes the fucking cake.

Under the guise of a 'charitable organization', those bastards monopolize the suffering of innocent people to gain profit instead of actually helping them.

I'm sure they laugh about it at their fucking martini parties with the other white collared douchebags who don't give a shit about anything but their stacks of dough.

I received the tip back in January from one of the Worldfree Clinic nurses, said I should come down to Accra and check it out.

The memories still bring bile to my throat.

The Cholera outbreak was worse than I could've imagined.

Half of the people I came across were so dehydrated that their fucking skin turned blue!

And the air reeked of vomit and diarrhea, both well-known symptoms of Cholera.

It sickened me how this atrocity never would've reached public attention if she didn't contact me.

Murkoff is smart; they keep their dirty business off American soil because they know no one will care otherwise.

If it is not on our soil, it's not our problem.

Back aching from hours at the computer, I got up and stretched before lying down on the floor.

'This article isn't going to do shit to Murkoff. I need something to break the bastards. Something big enough to actually knock them down.' I sighed and rubbed my face. 'But what?'

I continued to lie on the carpet, wondering what the hell to do next when I felt something poke my nose.

I immediately cracked a smile and opened my eyes.

"I was wondering where my Honey Nut Cheerio went."

My 'attacker' giggled and poked my nose again.

"Daddy is silly." Ae-cha, our two year old, smiled as she crouched next to my face.

I have to admit, Short Stack and I made a good-looking kid. She had my light brown skin, her mother's smile, and two gorgeous green eyes. She also had thick, black hair that hung in her face and was so damn tiny that I felt like a redwood next to her.

I sat up and pulled Ae-cha onto my lap.

"**I'm** silly?" I laughed, tickling her sides. "I'm not the one who's still wearing my pajamas!"

I blew raspberries against her cheeks and was reward with her adorable laughter.

"Doraemon!" She proudly pointed to the anime character on her nightshirt.

"Yes, it is Doraemon. But it is time to wear daytime clothes so Doraemon can go night-night before you wear him at bedtime."

Ae-cha nodded, understanding my bullshit excuse in her childish mind, and sprung to her feet before pulling on my arm.

"Change clothes, Daddy, so Doraemon goes night-night!"

I laughed and stood up, letting her led me out of my office and into the hallway.

Shortly after Short Stack and I got married, we gathered up our savings and bought a farmhouse on the outskirts of Denver. It is surrounded by open fields and beautiful trees for Ae-cha to climb and run around in when she gets older. So in short, not too far from the city, but far enough to see the stars clearly at night.

And it is large enough for our family of four: Mommy, Daddy, Baby, and-.

The sound of paws pitter-pattering echoed down the hallway, and Ae-cha squealed when our Welsh Corgi, Annie, came around the corner at full speed.

"There you are, Cinnamon Roll Butt. Been sleeping in the laundry room again?"

Annie barked and leapt into Ae-cha's waiting arms, fuzzy tail shaking all the while.

This little fur ball came along while Short Stack was pregnant with our Cheerio.

I had a huge case I was working on, and she was heavily pregnant at home most of the time.

So, being the freaking awesome hubby I am, I brought Annie home from the shelter to keep her company when I couldn't.

Which wasn't often since I was basically glued to her side 99% of the time, massaging her feet and buying her whatever.

And shitting myself when she went into labor at three in the morning.

I composed myself two hours later when I held our baby in my arms and gave the remaining part of my heart to her.

My Short Stack and My Honey Nut Cheerio.

What a lucky guy I am.

*Bark*

And my Cinnamon Roll Butt. How could I forget you?

* * *

"Panda!" Ae-cha pulled a Taro Panda dress from her clothes basket and waved it in my direction.

"Alright." I replied from my perch on her Froggy beanbag chair with Annie nesting on my feet. "Can you dress yourself like a big girl?"

"Yes, Daddy!" She smiled, bouncing up and down. "First, take off Doraemon."

"Good." I reached over and picked up the discarded nightdress, cursing her mommy for giving her the same bad habit. "What next?"

"Put on clean undies!"

"Good, no one likes an itchy butt. And now?"

"Put on Panda!" She cheered, pulling the dress on and clapping. "Good, Daddy?"

"Very good, Cheerio." I smiled as she settled on my lap once more. "And now, it's time to brush your hair. But since you did such a good job getting dressed, Daddy will fix your hair."

Ae-cha gasped with a sparkle in her eyes before nodding vigorously.

I grabbed a hairbrush from the table next to me and began brushing my Cheerio's unruly hair, making sure to be gentle with the various tangles and knots.

Never in my twenty-nine years on Earth did I ever imagine playing hair dresser with a two-year old, much less my own, but I have to admit…it's quite fun.

Not that I'd ever admit that to anyone, **especially** Short Stack.

She would probably fawn over the scene and insist on taking millions of pictures before sending them to our parents.

"Where's Mommy?" Ae-cha asked, kicking her feet up and down. "Is she pooping?"

"No," I laughed as I started to braid her hair. "Mommy is at work. Remember, she plays the violin in that big building?"

"The castle!" She gasped. "Mommy is a princess!"

"Actually, you silly Cheerio, Mommy is a Queen."

"Queen?"

"Yes, she is the head of the house, so that makes her the Queen, and since Mommy is the Queen, that makes you **the princess**."

"Princess?!" She shrieked, cheeks pink with happiness. "Yay!"

I chuckled at her adorable enthusiasm and continued braiding her hair back.

After three years of being a househusband and two of being a daddy, I think I got this shit down like a pro.

If there ever was an "America's Next Top Dad", I would win in a landslide because no one knows the words to "Everybody wants to be a Cat" like I do.

"Alright, Princess Cheerio. You are done!" I cheered, tying her braid together with a ribbon.

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy!" Ae-cha twirled around and hugged me. "Playtime now?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"Hide-and-go-seek!" She chanted, bouncing up and down again.

"Alright, Jumping Bean. I'll count. Go ahead and hide." I covered my eyes and starting counting, hearing her scamper out of the room with Annie hot on her heels.

"Don't run down the stairs!" I called out.

"Okay!" She replied. "Keep counting!"

Twenty Mississippi's later, I rose from my perch and began my investigation of "Where the hell is my daughter hiding this time?".

No sign of her in the bathroom.

Nor the laundry room.

And she knows better than to hide in my office.

"Hmmmm!" I called out, approaching the stairway. "Where on Earth could my daughter be?"

I heard a giggle from beneath the stairs and leaned over the edge, catching sight of Ae-cha and Annie hiding behind my armchair in the living room.

Tip toeing down the stairs, I got on my knees and crawled to the front of the armchair, making sure she didn't spot me.

"Oh dear!" I sighed, throwing my voice. "If I can't find my Cheerio, then I guess all of her stuffed animals belong to me now!"

She gasped and crawled out from behind the armchair.

"Aha!" I jumped in front of her, causing a squeak of surprise to come out of her. "Looks like I win!"

"Daddy! You cheated!" She puffed out her cheeks and stamped her foot, the spitting image of her mommy whenever I pissed her off.

"How did I cheat?" I snorted, puffing out my cheeks too. "You came out of your hiding place on your own."

"Nuh uh!" She shook her head. "You cheated! Mommy said cheating is bad!"

"And Mommy is absolutely right." I patted her on the head. "Daddy is a bad person, isn't he? Should he go into time-out?"

"Yeah!" She instantly perked up. "Go to time-out!"

'I love how you perfectly imitated your mommy right there. Looking forward to your teenage years, Ae-cha.'

"Alright," I sighed, going to the corner and sitting down facing the wall. "Daddy is now in time-out."

"Good!" Ae-cha giggled. "And you stay forever."

"Alright," I laughed, wondering how long forever would last.

A moment of silence soon followed.

I listened to her pace around, while Annie pattered over and settled on my lap before falling asleep.

Soon the silence was broken when Ae-cha started poking my back.

"Daddy, I am hungry."

"Well, Daddy can't do anything. He is stuck in time-out forever, remember?"

"But I'm hungry, Daddy!"

"Then go make yourself some food, Cheerio. Daddy is not making you food anymore."

She whimpered, and I felt my heart break little.

"Well," I cooed, turning around. "if you end time-out, I can make you some Mac n Cheese."

"Mac n Cheese?!"

"Yup."

"Time-out no more! Time-out no more!"

"Alright!" I scooped Annie into my arms and hopped up. "Let's go make the warden some lunch, Cinnamon Roll Butt."

"Yay!"

* * *

Ten minutes later, I sat next to Ae-cha at the dinner table and watched her clumsily scoop the Mac n Cheese into her tiny mouth, her cheeks stained with the golden delicacy.

"Why is my Cheerio such a messy eater?" I chuckled, halting her movements to wipe her mouth with a napkin.

"Yummy!" She smiled, waving her arms around. "Want some, Daddy?"

"Really? Why thank you." I opened my mouth and let her smear her cheese covered spoon across my face. "Wow, that was delicious. Thank you for sharing that with me."

She smiled and nodded, pleased with her 'good deed'.

Annie was settled next to my chair, a doggy bone in her mouth.

"Can I try a bite, Cinnamon Roll Butt?"

The fur ball growled when I tried to take the treat from her and scooted to the other side of the table.

"How rude, Annie. You're in time-out, young lady."

"Hehe, Daddy is silly!"

"**I'm** silly?! You and the butter licker are the only silly ones I see! Neither of you can keep your food in your mouth!"

Ae-cha covered her face and laughed, thus making it messier by the second.

Then she hopped off her chair, crawled onto my lap, and stared at me with her big eyes.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Ae-cha." I smiled and kissed her on the nose.

"Love Mommy too?"

"Of course I love Mommy too. You and Mommy make Daddy very happy."

'Why go then?" She tilted her head to the side, nothing but pure curiosity in her gaze.

"What do you mean? I'm right here." I held her tiny hand to my face. "See, Daddy is right here."

"Then why leave?" Her green eyes dulled as she clung to my shirt. "You went bye-bye. That made Mommy sad."

Because of the outbreak and the possible risks, I ended up staying in Ghana for three months instead of two weeks.

I knew it hurt Young-ja and Ae-cha, but it hear it from my daughter's mouth so plainly, it shattered my heart.

I gathered my baby into my arms and held her tight.

"Daddy has an important job. He wants to help the world, so he has to go away sometimes. But know this, Daddy is always come back you and Mommy. Always."

"Promise?" She held her pinky up with teary eyes.

"I promise, sweetheart." I locked our pinkies together. "Nothing will stop me from coming back to you."

Nothing.

Not even death.

**A/N: The article Miles types in the beginning is from the Red Barrels website. They published it to better explain why Miles hates Murkoff, and I decided to put it in! If you want the link, please send me a message, and I'll hook you up! Thank you to lokiAU10 and silkyterrier34 for their name suggestions! Since both of you were so kind enough to supply me with names, I used both of your lists to name the two new characters. LokiAu10 was Annie's, and silkyterrier34 was Ae-cha's. Thank you so much! And now, the Mount Massive saga has started! Please send in what you think will happen or what to happen! I love reading them, and~ if I really like it, I may use it in the story! And I based Ae-cha's conversations off the two-year old I care for at the hospital. See you guys in the next chapter!**


	22. Resolution

**A/N: Thank you very much for the support! I hope my story continue to please you! So, this chapter is a short one, but a necessary one! I hope you will enjoy and welcome all new readers!**

**"September 17, 2013 **

**From: 10260110756 **

**To: milesupshur **

**Subject: TIP / Illegal Activity at Murkoff Psychiatric Systems**

_You don't know me, but I've been a fan for a long time. You getting fired for what you posted on Afghanistan is absolute bullshit. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring._

_I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems' facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys._

_Terrible things happening there. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money._

_It needs to be exposed._

* * *

"Are you sure you have to leave now?" I asked while following Miles down the stairs. "It is five til ten, Miles. Can't this wait until morning?"

"Not this time, Short Stack." He replied in a hurried tone. "Whoever sent me this wants me to expose Murkoff as soon as possible. Besides, I've been waiting for a lead like this for months."

Ever since that trip to Ghana, Miles has been on Murkoff's ass, looking for anything to bring them down. I do support him and believe scumbag corporations like that need to be brought to justice, but….it also scares me.

No one has been able to touch Murkoff, and while I don't doubt my husband's skills, I worry that he might find himself miles up shore without a paddle if he's not careful.

We are not those two kids living in our own shoebox world anymore. No, our world is now the two-year old sleeping upstairs with the cinnamon loaf dog.

"Still, I don't want you driving in the mountains at nighttime. I would prefer it if you waited until morning."

Suddenly, Miles whipped around and placed his hands on my shoulders, a serious gleam in his eyes.

"Young-ja, trust me. In all of our years together, haven't I always come home back safely?"

"….Yes."

"Then trust me once again. Mount Massive is only two hours away. I'll just head out there, record some info, and then come straight home." He kissed my forehead, trying to soothe my fears. "So, don't worry."

"But the e-mail said they were doing 'dream therapy' on people. What if you find something dangerous?"

"Then all the more reason to go."

"Miles, they aren't going to let you waltz in. How do you plan on getting your footage?"

"Look, if I can sneak into a private government building without getting caught, then I can manage an asylum."

"Still," I sighed, unable to explain this void in my chest.

'Miles is right. He's done this hundreds of times. So, why does this time feel different?'

I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his brown denim jacket.

"Just promise that you'll return in one piece. Not just for me, but for Ae-cha."

"I will." He returned the embrace before pulling away. "And to ensure my return, I want you to give these to her."

He slipped off his engagement and wedding bands and placed them in my hand.

"I made a promise to her, too. That I would always come back, no matter what."

I nodded and curled my fingers into a fist.

"Try to make it back before she wakes up then."

"I try." He smiled, while grabbing two batteries from the kitchen drawer.

"Just two of them? Shouldn't you grab some extra?"

"Psh! I told you, I shouldn't be gone for long." Miles grabbed his keys and headed towards the front entrance. "Two will be plenty. Trust me."

"I do trust you, sweetheart." I sighed, leaning against the doorway and watching him pull on his boots, the void growing larger by the second. "Hey, at the first sign of trouble, get out of there. Please don't be a hero, alright?"

"…Alright." He stood up and pulled me into his arms. "I should be back by five."

"Call me when you get there."

"I will. I love you, Young-ja."

"I love you too, Miles. Drive safely."

We kissed, then he headed out to his Jeep, and I watched him roll down the driveway and out of sight.

And all the while, the void continued to grow,along with my fears.

* * *

Instead of going back to bed, I sat at the dining room table with a cup of tea and watched my cellphone.

I didn't care how exhausted I was from the day's activities; I just wanted to make sure he got there safely so the void in my chest might shrink.

'Why won't this feeling go away? Miles will be fine. He will be fine. He is going to be fine. He has to be fine.'

Closing my eyes, I rested my head on my arms and sighed, praying he would call soon and put my worries to rest.

* * *

I didn't realize I'd dozed off until I opened my eyes and noticed an hour had passed.

Checking my phone, I felt my heart sink to see the 'No New Messages' notice flashing.

"It's still too soon." I got to my feet and moved towards the kitchen. "Maybe I'll have another c-."

Flashes of red streaked across my eyes, and I halted in place.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through my head, and I fell to my knees, clutching my head in a death grip.

"Wh-?!"

Various images flashed across my eyes, images of mutilated people, walls covered in blood, and Miles suspended in the air, surrounded by a dark cloud and giving out a blood curdling scream.

The images flew by faster and faster, and the pain grew and grew until it felt like my head was being ripped in half from the inside.

"STOP!" I threw myself against the wall and dug my nails into my scalp until I drew blood.

'Go away! Go away! GO AWAY!'

And, slowly, the pain ebbed away and my vision cleared.

My hands fell to my sides, and I stared at the wall, trying to make sense of what just happend.

'Was that…an omen?'

"Mommy?" A soft voice drifted from the staircase.

Slowly, I turned my head and spotted Ae-cha standing at the top of the stairs, a frightened look on her face.

"Mommy okay?"

I stared at her a while longer, before shooting to my feet and racing up the meet her.

"Ae-cha," I spoke softly, picking her up in my arms. "Mommy needs you to go into your room and pack an extra set of clothes and your pillow. You are going to spend the night at Ms. Johnson's house. Remember her? She is the nice babysitter you like."

"Why?" She tilted her head in confusion. "Where is Daddy?"

"Daddy is working, and he asked me to give this to you." I placed the rings onto her tiny palm. "Keep them safe because Daddy is going to want them back. Now, go and pack while Mommy calls Ms. Johnson, alright?"

"Is Mommy going bye-bye?"

"Yes, Mommy is going bye-bye. She has to go somewhere important. So I need you to be a good girl and wait for me to come back."

"Where is Mommy going?"

"She is going to get your Daddy."

**A/N: I used the Beta version of The Whistleblower note, so that is why it is a tad different. And silkyterrier34! You were actually pretty close with your prediction! :D And, now we officially move to the Mount Massive chapters! And, I will do my best to create a basic timeline, so I'll have to play through both games again to get a feel where and when things are happening. I do plan on sticking with the basic canon, but with some minor changes since most chapters will be from Young-ja's eyes. Thank you very much!**


	23. Into the Asylum

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! I posted face claim videos for Miles, Young-ja, and Ae-cha on my profile! Please give them a look! I like to pretend Miles is filming Young-ja during her face claim video, and Young-ja is talking to Ae-cha during hers. Lol. And I learned Mount Massive is real place. Wow, I'm slow. Hahaha. **

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

After packing Ae-cha's clothes and Annie's treats into an overnight bag, I quickly packed my own things.

I dug out an old backpack from the closet and began stuffing it with first-aid supplies, a flashlight, extra batteries, and Miles' baseball bat.

I don't know if that will do me any good, but if my vision is true, then I need something to protect myself with. We don't have guns in our house, and even if we did, it is not my intention to kill anyone.

I just want to find Miles and bring him back before something terrible **does** happen.

"Mommy?" Ae-cha stood in the doorway of the master bedroom with her bag and Annie snuggled into her arms.

I zipped up the backpack before swinging it on and picking her up.

"Time to go, sweetheart."

I raced down the stairs, making sure everything was locked and off, while the ticking of the dining room clock echoed throughout the house.

"Why Mommy go?" Ae-cha asked once we were outside, and I was securing her on my Roadster.

"I told you, sweetheart. I'm going to get Daddy. Then you can give him his rings back." I made sure she had a tight grip on Annie and her helmet was on before hopping on to the bike and reeving the engine. "All good back there?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Good. Now hold on tight."

We speed down the dirt path and onto the main road towards Denver.

My bike was not made for a child to ride along, but what other choice did I have?

Ms. Johnson was waiting for us on her porch when I pulled up, leaning against her cane and waving at us.

I kicked my brake on and picked Ae-cha up, scurrying up to the porch.

"Thank you very much for doing this on such short notice." I bowed to the older woman.

"Not a problem, my dear. Ae-cha is a joy to have." She waved at the girl in question with a gentle smile. "But, I **am** a bit concerned about what you need to do at such a late hour."

"It's difficult to explain, but I promise to be back for her in a few hours."

"Just drive safely, my dear."

I nodded and placed my daughter on her feet.

"Be a good girl for me, Ae-cha. Listen to Ms. Johnson, and don't anything without her permission. Mommy will be back with Daddy before you know it, and we can all go home together."

"Yes, Mommy." She sniffed, tears prickling at her eyes. "Come back with Daddy."

"I will, sweetie." I kissed her forehead and held her close. "I love you, Ae-cha."

"I love you too, Mommy."

After another hug and a kiss for Annie, I raced back to my bike and turned the engine on.

"Come back to Ae-cha!" My little girl screamed from the porch, tears staining her face. "Mommy and Daddy come back!"

I wanted nothing more than to race back up the porch and never let her go, but instead, I placed my helmet back on and kicked the brake stand off the ground.

"Ae-cha loves you!"

"And I love you!"

Then, with a broken heart, I tore out of the driveway and down the highway towards Lake County.

'Hold on, Miles. I'm coming.'

* * *

The desolate roads seemed endless as the night sky flew past me.

All I could think of were my two babies behind me and my husband's unknown state ahead of me.

'Please. Please let me find him safe and sound. Let him call me his "worrisome Short Stack", and let us go home to our family.'

I repeated this to myself the entire ride over.

But it did nothing to soothe me.

* * *

An hour or so later, I found myself standing at the gates of Mount Massive Asylum.

The colossal structure was backlit by the moonlight, giving it a foreboding aura.

I tried to make out some of the features, but it was too dark to see anything.

'Why aren't there any lights on? Did the power go out?'

I whipped out my flashlight and scanned the area, almost squealing in delight when I caught sight of Miles' jeep.

'Please be in there. Please be in there.' I chanted to myself as I pushed the gates open and wheeled my bike in.

"Miles?" I cupped my hands around my eyes and peeked into the Jeep. "Are you in here?"

There wasn't a soul in sight, and I felt my heart drop.

"Oh God…" I gazed up at the building in the distance. "He went inside…"

There was a tiny security station about two feet away from the Jeep. It was empty, so I hid my bike in there.

If things got bad and the jeep was compromised, then we would have an extra escape route.

I checked my phone for any messages, only to see a "No Service" message flashing across the screen.

"That explains why Miles hasn't called then."

Before going any farther, I made sure my flashlight had enough batteries and I took the bat out, hoping I wouldn't have to use it anytime soon.

My footsteps echoed as I slipped through a small gate and into the front courtyard. In the distance, I could make out a tree and several small bushes surrounding a brick stairway.

They were all bare and dismal-looking, like no one had watered them in weeks.

"I hope the inside is better maintained." I whispered, jumping every time a dead leaf crunched under my shoes.

Once I reached the porch, I halted in place, my heart beating in my ears.

Faintly, I could hear someone screaming on the other side of the door.

"Oh God." I sprinted forward and tried to yank the door open. "Hey! Are you alright in there?!"

The scream grew more agonizing, and my stomach turned at the horrible sound.

"Hey! Open up!"

Suddenly, the screams stopped.

A chill went down my spine, and slowly, I placed my ear against the door.

"….Hello?" I whispered.

Something slammed against the locked door, launching me away from the wooden door and onto my back.

"AH!" I gasped when my head made contact with a pillar. "What the hell was that?!"

I scrambled towards my discarded flashlight and shone the light towards the door.

Something was leaking through the cracks, and upon closer inspection, I realized it was blood.

I covered my mouth and stumbled backwards, almost falling down the stairs in the process.

'Someone….was murdered on the other side of that door.'

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the growing puddle, my visions flashing through my mind.

'There is a killer in there…and so is my husband!'

"Miles!" I gasped, spinning around on my heels and flying down the stairway.

'I have to find other way in.'

Immediately, I spotted a small gate to my left and scampered towards it.

Only to stop when I almost ran into a large jeep.

"Wha-?" I shone my light on the huge vehicle and noticed it was a military jeep.

"What is the military doing at an asylum?"

Then, that scream echoed inside my head, and my blood turned cold.

'Is that why the door is locked?! Was there a breakout?! Why aren't the police here then?! Why aren't people evacuating?!'

I shook those thoughts away and hurried towards the small gate, even more desperate to find my husband now.

There was a small hole in the corner of the gate, so I crawled through, wondering if this was how Miles also got in.

I found myself in another courtyard, but this one was smaller and had a fountain.

It looked like they were in the middle of renovating a building, but from how worn some of the wood looked, it appeared to be on hold.

I scanned the metal foundation and spotted a ladder.

'A way in!'

I climbed up and steadied myself on the wood planks, hoping the worn structure wouldn't collapse underneath me.

Slowly, I made my way around the corner until I reached an opening above me.

I jumped and pulled myself up on to the next floor of the foundation.

I slowly made my way across the plank, my flashlight the only thing keeping me from falling to my death.

There was an open window around the next corner, and I crawled in, grateful to be on solid ground again.

I scanned the room, which I realized was an office, and took note of its filthy state.

Papers were scattered everywhere, desks were overturned, and computers were smashed into pieces.

Heart in my throat, I slowly made my way to the door and peeked out.

Both sides of the hallway were blocked by filing cabinets and tables.

'It's..like a barricade. Against what though?'

The room opposite was a little tidier and appeared to be some type of lounge or meeting room.

A portrait of a priest hung in the room, his eyes and mouth roughly torn from the paper like some kind of warning or omen.

There was another door in the room that went around the roadblock, granting me access to the rest of the hallway.

However, I shortly came across another barricade but was able to slide through the crack on this one.

'Who is stacking all this stuff up? That e-mail was sent a few hours ago, so how could all this damage be done so quickly?'

The dark hallway seemed to go on forever, like some tunnel into Hell.

I peeked into each of the rooms I passed by but found nothing of interest.

Eventually, I came across a tiny breakroom with a sink and two soda machines.

The ceiling vent louver swung back and forth rhythmically while blood dripped from the ceiling on the stacks of tables below.

Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it and stood on top of the table so I could crawl into the vent.

The vent wasn't as dirty as I thought, and there was evidence of someone crawling through here not that long ago.

I compared the handprints on the vent's floor with mine and prayed that these were Miles'.

The end of the vent led to a square hallway that overlooked the main lobby.

As quietly as possible, I slid down the wall and surveyed my surroundings.

There was a locked door to my left, and another barricade to my right.

It looked like my only route was to take the adjacent room labeled "Library".

I cracked the door open, hoping nothing would pop out at me.

Once I was sure of my safety, I slipped inside and closed the door behind me.

A foul air filled the darkness, and I had to pull my shirt over my nose to continue on.

Several bookshelves were tipped over and their contents were scattered around the room.

It looked like a huge brawl happened in here.

When I turned the corner, I heard something dripping, and my blood froze.

Slowly, I raised my flashlight up, and almost dropped it not a second later.

Not five feet from me was a solider impaled onto a metal beam, his blood dripping onto the floor.

And surrounding him were severed heads mounted on sticks or shoved into bookshelves.

Without a second thought, I fled the room and slammed the door.

My knees gave out from under me, and I clutched my stomach as I emptied out its contents on to the carpet.

'What the fuck happened here?!'

The images of those mangled bodies caused me to gag, even when I had nothing left to expel.

Once my stomach settled, I leaned against the wall and covered my mouth to muffle my sobs.

'What kind of place is this?! What monster is capable of that?!'

I wanted to run away.

I wanted to escape from this hell hole and never look back.

But, I couldn't.

I promised Ae-cha that I would bring Miles back.

And I intend to keep my promise.

Trying to catch my breath, I braced myself against the wall and slowly stood up, my legs still shaking.

Suddenly, a buzz echoed throughout the hallway and the lights flickered on, illuminating my surroundings.

"Thank God." I breathed out, my tears drying on my face.

I switched my flashlight off and placed in my backpack but kept the baseball bat out.

The glass overlooking the main lobby was translucent, but I still could make out the bodies littering the ground.

Averting my eyes, I stared ahead, looking for a stairwell or something.

I came across another barricade and was about to slip through, when I noticed something.

A part of the glass had been shattered, like something was torn from here.

Or…someone.

I shivered and quickly made my way through the barricade, praying that **someone** wasn't my husband.

And that I would find him very soon.

The moment I found the stairs, I didn't waste a second in dashing down them, wanting to put as much distance between me and that room as possible.

When I reached the ground floor, I clutched the bat to my chest and held my breath.

All was silent, and the hairs on my arms stood on end.

Suddenly, a sound was heard from the hallway on the left, and I flung myself against a nearby pillar and held my breath.

'Please don't let it be that monster. Please don't let it be that monster.'

When all was silent again, I took a deep breath and peek around the pillar.

Light streamed from one of the rooms, and I wondered if it was worth the risk of checking.

'It might be Miles, but it might not be him too.'

Resolving to take the chance, I launched myself away from my hiding place and scurried down the dim hallway, not looking back once.

I got on my knees once I arrived at the lit room and placed my back to the wall.

The nameplate outside that room said "Security", which gave me some hope.

But, when I noticed the door had been ripped off its hinges, all hope faded away.

Mustering up all my courage, I crawled into the room and heaved a sigh of relief.

'No one is here. Thank God.'

Climbing to my feet, I began to investigate the room.

There was a wall covered in security camera footage, and I felt my heart swell at the thought of finding Miles.

But, before I could move a muscle, I heard someone coming down the hallway.

Panicking, I search for a place to hide.

'Dammit, Young-ja! Hurry!'

I caught sight of an ajar locker and quickly locked myself in.

Covering my mouth, I curled into a ball and prayed that I wouldn't be found.

The footsteps quickly grew louder and louder until they were inside the room.

'Please don't find me.' Tears trailed down my cheeks, and I bit my hand to silence my sobs. 'God, I beg you, please don't let them find me.'

The footsteps moved around the room, as if they were looking for something.

I remained as still as possible for what felt like years, my heart thumping against my rib cage.

Eventually, the footsteps faded away, and the room was silent once again.

I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head against the cold metal wall.

'Thank you.'

Once my heart slowed down, I braced myself against the confined space and pulled myself to my feet.

But, just as I reached for the door, it was ripped open, and I was thrown across the room.

The wind was knocked out of me as I hit the wall and fell hard on the ground.

My attacker moved towards me with a blood thirsty gleam in his eyes, and all I could do was lay there frozen in fear as it drew closer and closer.

"Little Pig, no more running."

* * *

**A/N: And so Young-ja is in the asylum! I have a basic timeline I believe the story occurred in, and it may be right or wrong, but that is what I'm going with. It is typed out below. I would like to give credit to Don'tWatchMePlay on youtube since his explanation helped me form this timeline.**

**9:40 pm- Waylon sends the e-mail _(Miles gets it)_**

**9:45 pm-Waylon goes to the Underground Lab and does his techie thing before going back to get his computer and gets caught _(Miles leaves his house.)_**

**11:30~ish pm- Waylon, after being forced to undergo Morphogenic therapy is strapped into his cell with Andrew McLick Ear. _(Miles arrives and begins his investigation)_**

**12:10~ish am- _(Miles finds the Security station and notices Father Martin shut off the power, then proceeds to the basement to restart the generator)_ Waylon is now free of his binding due to the power outage and begins his escape. [Young-ja arrives during this time]**

**12:35~ish am- _(Miles has restarted the generator and returns to the Security station where Father Martin knocks him out.)_**

**12:10~ish am to 4:20~ish am-: Waylon runs from Frank, escapes through the airlock, ends up in the Prison Yard, re-enters the asylum, searches/finds the radio, gets chased by Chris Walker, jumps into the Vocational Block, runs from Dennis, meets Eddie, runs from him for a bit before getting captured and knocked out for 12 hours.**

**4:15~ish am to 4:30~ish pm : _(Miles wakes up in the Prison Ward, meets the Twins, follows the blood messages Father Martin has provided, he runs and jumps and gets knock down a floor by that fire, gets chased by Chris through the Prison Ward, goes through the sewers, gets chased by Chris some more, then gets chased by the Twins, gets captured by Trager, escapes from Trager and is chased by him, kills Trager, finds Father Martin again, who tells him to meet him in the chapel)_**

**4:30~ish pm: Waylon wakes up and escapes from Eddie. Cue some chasing.**

**4:45~ish pm: (Miles films Father Martin's death and gets the key to the Basement Lab)**

**5:10~ish pm: Waylon and Eddie chasing comes to a close, and Eddie dies. (Walker dies from the Walrider, and Miles, after meeting Dr. Wernicke, sets out to cut off Billy's life support).**

**5:20~ish pm to 5:30~ish pm: Waylon, escaping to the main building, comes across the burning chapel and Trager's body and has to hide from soldiers who will kill anything that moves. (Miles, after successfully cutting off Billy's life support, is getting his ass kicked by the host-free Walrider. Then the Walrider merges with him, and he limps to the exit.)**

**5:30~ish pm: _(Miles, now the Walrider's host, kills Wernicke and the soldiers in the basement)_ Waylon is now free to run to the main building since the soldiers are ordered to go to the basement lab for back-up. **

**5:33~ish pm: Waylon finds Jeremy Blaire at the entrance and is stabbed by him. _(Walrider Miles escapes from the basement and kills Jeremy, raining tomato soup on poor Waylon.)_**

**5:34~ish pm: Waylon hobbles to Miles jeep and takes it. _(Walrider Miles appears at the entrance and what becomes of him is unknown)_**

**Average time Waylon was in the Asylum: 20 hours**

**Average time Miles was in the Asylum: 18 hours**


	24. I Spy

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and support! I truly thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. Every single one of you is wonderful and has inspired me to continue writing this story. I hope it continues to please you. This is a fairly short chapter, but it leads up to some important plot points. **

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

I had never seen someone as frightening as him before.

How could a human being look so monstrous?

But….could he even **be** **considered** a human being?

This enormous…thing in front of me was horribly disfigured from his managed face to his blood soaked hands. And if there was a shred of humanity left in this monster, it certainly was well-hidden in his blood thirsty eyes.

Whatever had happened to him, he was obviously using it to his advantage.

"Little Pig." He growled, reaching towards me.

'Move, Young-ja! Move!' I screamed internally, trying to pull myself up. 'You're no good to Miles if you're dead! Now move!'

My heart pounded faster and faster as this creature drew closer and closer.

'**MOVE!**'

Finally, just as he lunged forward, I rolled out of the way and scrambled out to the hallway.

I didn't bother to check my surroundings or try be quiet; I just wanted to get the hell away from that monstrosity as quickly as possible.

Hurdling over fallen desks and dead bodies, I sprinted back into the lobby and swerved into the right hallway, hoping to find a hiding spot.

I cursed as I discovered a majority of the doors were locked or boarded up.

"God dammit!" I hissed, my heart pounding in my ears.

In the distance, I could hear the monster's footsteps, and I reached for the baseball bat.

Only to grasp air.

"Shit! I left it back in the security room!"

Defenseless, I hurried further down the hallway, banging doors as I went and never looking back once.

And just when I thought I was completely fucked, the last door on the left was opened, so I bolted inside, slamming the door behind me.

The room I was in appeared to be a prescription storage unit with cabinets filled to the brim with various bottles and patient files.

Quickly, I ransacked one of the ground cabinets, tossing all the bottles to the side before crawling in and closing the square door behind me.

With one hand, I held the door handle, and with the other, I covered mouth, praying the monster wouldn't find me again.

Not a second later, the door shot off its hinges and the creature entered the room.

I watched him through a crack in the cabinet door, trying to keep my heart under control.

He moved around the room, occasionally stopping and staring at the ceiling like he could see something others couldn't.

It was like he was trying to sense where I was.

The thought alone made my hands quiver.

"Little whore." He snarled, not two feet away from my hiding spot. "I'll find you. All of you. Can't let it out."

'Can't let what out? How am I a threat? And what does he mean by 'all of you'?'

A shiver ran down my spine and I almost let out a gasp.

'Does he mean Miles?! Oh God, I need to hurry up and find him!'

"Have to contain it." He continued mumbling to himself. "Maintain OPSEC, full black, can't... wait, shhh...**have**..**to**..**contain**!"

I almost screamed when the monster rammed his fist into the door next to me, rattling the entire cabinet.

I bit my tongue and tightened my grip as he eased away, his knuckles covered in splinters and blood.

"I'll find all you whores." His voice trailed off as he gradually left the room. "All of you…."

Once I could no longer hear his footsteps, I slowly crawled out of the cabinet and…..just sat there.

Within a single hour, I had come across hallways full of mangled bodies, walls caked in blood, and monsters beyond my wildest nightmares.

And all I could think of, as I sat in that room, was, 'Wherever you are, Miles, I hope you're safe.'

* * *

(Miles)

'**Shit, shit, shit**!'

Since that 'priest' shut off the power, I've been racing around the basement trying to turn the generator back on AND avoiding this nutjob with a pipe.

After switching on the second lever, I quickly hid myself in a nearby locker, knowing the buzz of electricity would probably attract the bastard.

'Speaking of bastards, I hope the huge McFuckFace is bothering someone else because the moment I unlock the doors, I'm out of this hell hole.'

I turned on my camcorder's night vision once the variant entered the room and watched him through the locker slits.

He hummed and beat his pipe against the metal shelves as he waltzed around. Then he approached the lockers, and I braced myself for a flight or fight situation.

But, instead of opening my locker, he opened the locker door adjacent to me and mumbled, "No putty tat here" before leaving.

To be safe, I waited a minute before venturing out to the hallway.

I peeked out to the left.

'No nut job here.'

Then, I peeked out to the right.

'And no nut job here.'

Seizing the chance, I shot down the hallway and back towards the main circuit board.

'Once I get out of here, I'm taking the girls to Disneyland.'

Racing up to the board, I slammed the 'On' button, and power was restored to the asylum.

"Time to get the fuck out here."

I scurried back up stairs and slipped through the crack in the wall.

Once I was back on the main floor, I hurried into the security office.

Only to trip on a baseball bat on my in.

"What the fuck is something like this doing here?!" I kicked it aside and approached the control bench. "Probably one of the guard's."

'Hang on, Short Stack. I'm coming home.'

But, before I could type the exit code in, something was jabbed into my neck, and I fell to my knees.

'**W-what?!**'

"I'm sorry, my son," The 'priest' stood next to me with an empty syringe in his hand. "I didn't want to have to do this to you. But you can't leave, not yet."

"Fuck off!" I tried to push him away as my vision began to fade, and I lost control of my muscles. "What…what did you inject me with?!"

"There is so much for you to witness." He grasped my arms in his hands and shook me, a deranged gleam in his eyes. "So much." Then he turned me towards the security cameras and pointed to one of the bottom left ones.

The fuzzy, gray screen displayed three soldiers entering a room with their weapons ready to attack.

"Will you see it? Can you?" The 'priest' reached out and caressed the screen. "Our lord the Walrider, tearing His truth into unbelievers."

Immediately, one of the soldiers was lifted into the air and thrown aside.

'**What the-?!**'

The other soldiers began firing at the unknown assailant before they were also lifted up and dragged away, screaming and clawing at the ground.

My consciousness began to fade in and out, and I struggled to keep my eyes opened.

'I..got to..get out of here…'

The last thing I heard before blacking out completely was the 'priest' telling me, "The only way out of this place is the truth. Accept the gospel and all the doors will open before you."

'Young-ja…..I'm….sorry.'

* * *

I didn't want to leave that room.

I didn't want to go back out there and see all the vile sights that probably grew worse as one went deeper into the asylum.

But I couldn't stay here.

I had to find my husband.

And bring him home to our daughter and puppy.

So, I grasped the edge of a fallen table and pulled myself onto my shaking feet.

"I have to retrieve Miles' bat."

Without that, I'm powerless.

My trek back towards the security station was a tense one.

Every sound from the rats scurrying around to the whirl of damaged electronics caused me to freeze in place and hold my breath.

I didn't want any more surprise guests today, one was plenty.

Eventually, I reached the security station and found the bat underneath the control bench.

"Nice to see you still intact." I bent down and picked it up, rubbing my hands down the smooth wooden layer. "Please pass on some of your owner's courage to me. Just for tonight."

I gave a tiny smirk and was about to leave when something on the security camera caught my eye.

A man in cleric's clothing was carrying a body over his shoulder, whispering something to himself.

The slumped body appeared to be a man, but since the camera was too far away and fuzzy, I couldn't make out any features.

"Maybe…" I twisted a knob and increased the visual resolution, yet I still couldn't identify him.

But, when the cleric stumbled climbing over a desk, his grip on the body slipped, and the camera caught sight of his face.

"**Miles!**" I covered my mouth. "Oh my God, what has happened to you?!"

Quickly, I typed in the camera's ID number, livid at what I just saw.

A red map flashed on the screen, pointing to a building that said '**Prison Ward'** in bold letters.

Memorizing the route, I flung myself away from the desk and dashed back out to the hallway, fear clouding at heart at my husband's condition.

'Hold on, Miles, I'm coming!'

**A/N: So close, yet so far. The point of this chapter really was to show how close Miles and Young-ja were to finding each other. And Miles! The "Huge McFuckFace" is bothering your wife! haha. And it was also to get Young-ja to explore the deeper parts of the asylum. After this chapter, I'll probably change the story rating to 'M' just to be safe. Ugh, Nursing school is killing me. I'm so sleepy all the time,but I promise to update as often as I can!**

**I was watching "The Mummy" earlier today (love Branden Frasier!) and all I could see was Miles and Young-ja! Lol. Maybe I'll do an AU for that in the special chapters. Hahaha. **


	25. Assembly

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! Young-ja continues into the asylum in this chapter!**

**Welcome all new readers! Enjoy!**

_Nothing but beautiful fields of flowers as far as the eye could see._

_Not a single factory or skyscraper in sight._

_Just pure, untouched nature._

_I closed my eyes and let the cool breeze wash over me. As I child, I craved the excitement and intrigue big cities had to offer, but as I grew older, I become enamored by the peace and serentiy the countryside offered instead._

_After years of digging up dirt and untangling webs of deceit, a place to hide away and heal became important-vital- for my sanity._

_Holding my hand up to the sky, I smiled as my wedding and engagement bands caught the sunlight._

_I never grew tired of looking at them. Even on the roughest of days, I just had to look at my left hand to make the world right again._

_Because, I know she is right next to me._

_For better or for worse._

_In the distance, I could hear her laughter, and the flowers around me blossomed into an array of colors. _

_I bent down and plucked handfuls until I had a large bouquet of every flower in my grasp. Then, I followed the sound of her laughter._

_I found her sitting on the swing hanging from the old oak tree, her long hair loose and barefoot. Annie was chasing butterflies in the distance, barking at them and tripping over herself, hence the reason of her laughter._

_She had one hand on the swing's rope to steady herself and the other was placed on top of her growing abdomen to steady our baby._

_I always found pregnant women to look creepy and kept my distance, but she was a different case._

_My heart swelled as she smiled and talked to our child growing inside her. _

_Around others, I would punch the wall or cough to hide the idiotic grin on my face, but here in private, I allowed myself the luxury of fawning over my family._

_After a while, I made my way towards her._

_The sound of my footsteps alerted her of my presence, and she immediately reached out for me, that smile of hers aglow._

_I took her hand in mine and knelt down, placing the bouquet on her lap before saying hello to our baby._

_And she giggled, telling me the baby missed me and was kicking up a storm._

_Then she, my wife, my Young-ja, leaned forward and whispered in my ear._

"_Hurry up and find me."_

* * *

I placed my apostle on the bed and caressed his face, in awe that our Lord had actually blessed me with a witness.

After years of waiting, I could finally spread my gospel to the world.

"May your dreams lead you to your destiny, my son." I slowly backed out of the room and locked it to ensure his safety. "When you awaken, you will have much to do."

He had such a serene look on his face, and I said a quick prayer before setting out to prepare for his awakening.

"So much witness this night."

* * *

(Young-ja)

My trek to the Prison Block brought me to the Female Ward.

The rusted sign for the building swung back and forth on its remaining nail, hinting at how long it's been since this building's been used.

'I guess it's a good thing there aren't any females here," I pondered to myself, a death grip on my flashlight and bat. 'But that means** I'll** have to be extra cautious.'

It was not just the male patients I had to look out for; the aging building also posed a threat to my safety.

"AH!" My foot went through a rotten piece of wood, and I almost lost my balance.

Pulling my foot out of the hole, I placed my hand on my chest and tried to steady my heartbeat before proceeding.

"A woman." A voice drifted from above me.

My blood froze, and I slowly looked up.

Two identical men were leering down at me from a hole in the ceiling. They appeared to be twins and were naked, but that wasn't what caught my attention.

**What did** was that they were armed with machetes.

"Father Martin said we couldn't touch the apostle, but he never said anything about her."

"I don't think he knows about her, brother."

"Then can we kill her before he does? It can be our secret."

"That's a fine idea. Let's give her a head start."

"Good idea. It's been so long since we've hunted."

'Oh my God.' I slowly back away from their hungry gazes before tearing down the hallway when the twins tried to hop down through the hole.

Like before, a majority of the rooms were boarded up or locked.

"Shit!" I could hear their footstep echoing down the corridor.

Unlike the monster from before, these two were taking their time and were completely calm.

Like they knew I had no place to go.

The ominous thought caused me to sprint further down the hallway, praying to find an escape route or hiding place.

My heart sung when I spotted an air vent to my left, and I quickly climbed inside, holding my breath and not moving a muscle.

A moment later, the Twins walked by.

"Where did the little girl go?"

"She is hiding, like a mouse."

"She must think we are stupid. Let's skin her."

"And slice her into pieces. Half for you, and half for me."

"There's a plan."

I winced and crawled deeper into the vent, their plans for me bringing bile to my mouth.

Once I reached the end of the vent, I carefully slid to the floor and scurried down the hallway, keeping my eye peeled for the twins and other threats.

*Crunch* *Crunch*

A sound drifted from the adjacent door next to me.

Praying it was a dog or something harmless, I peeked through the crack.

Inside, there was a man hunched over a dead officer's body.

The officer's belly had been torn open and his innards had been pulled from his body. The man was chewing on his small intestine, his mouth and hands soaked in blood.

"Delicious." He kept whispering. "So delicious."

Covering my mouth, I dashed away from the horrible sight and didn't stop running until my legs gave out.

Once again, I found myself throwing up and wishing I could bleach my memories away.

"This is Hell…" I whispered, my entire body shaking. "This place is truly Hell on Earth."

Knowing I could be the next victim if I knelt there any longer, I crawled to my feet and continued down the hallway.

The next room I came across had eighty-five percent of the floor missing, which meant I had to jump from board to board.

Taking a deep breath, I got a running start and flung myself onto the next piece of the floor.

Boards crumbled beneath me, and I kept jumping and running until I was on the other side.

Bracing myself against the door frame, I tried to catch my breath as several of the board crumbled to the ground behind me.

'You're almost there, Young-ja. Just get through the Male Ward, and you'll be in the Prison Block.'

"Do it for him. Do it for him."

* * *

After a few twists and turns, I found the entrance to the Male Ward.

It was locked tight, but there was a small gap above the door for me to climb over.

Once I was safe on the other side, I stood still and listened for anyone or anything nearby.

I was met with silence, which did nothing to soothe me, but I proceeded anyways.

Most of the rooms I passed by didn't have doors and appeared to be offices.

In a moment of stupidity, I tried to use the phone, only to be met with a dial tone.

"What was I expecting?" I scoffed to myself, climbing over another gate. "**Of course** the phones aren't working."

Soon, I found myself next to an elevator with several flipped over wheelchairs nearby by.

In another stupid moment, I tried to use the elevator, only to discover it needed a key.

"Dammit, I guess I'll have to find another way."

I went to into the adjacent hallway and paused when I hear the sound of metal scrapping against wood.

Someone was dragging something against the ground.

"Let me go!" A voice drifted from the floor below me. "Let me go, you fucking psycho!"

"Now, now, Buddy." Another voice spoke up. It had such a mocking yet sinister tone that it sent chills down my spine. "If you don't shut up, I'll have to cut off that tongue of yours and put it to better use."

My heart dropped to my belly, and I bolted down the hallway, not wanting to hear anymore.

Turning the corner, I spotted a metal door with 'Exit' flashing above it, like some God sent beacon.

"Yes!" I smiled and hurried towards it.

But, just as I was halfway down the hallway, I was tackled from the side and pinned to the ground.

My attacker muffled my screams with his hand and gestured for me to stay still. His entire face was covered in bandages, and his hands were covered in stitches.

"You have to be quiet!" His voice was dry and sharp, like nails against a chalk board. "Trager will find you!"

"Wh-?!" I struggled against his grip and twisted my face away from his hand. "What are you talking about?!"

"The Doctor will find you! He appears and takes you away to his operating room! Run away! He's an evil man. Evil man!"

"Get off of me!" I reached out and grasped his bandaged face., trying to get him off me.

In the struggle, I ended up ripping them off his face and had to bite my tongue to silence my screams.

His eyes and frontal bone were gone.

Ripped and plucked straight off his face.

"Oh God!"

"Get away!" The man continued to scream, thrashing about. "Trager is coming! Trager!"

I heard someone coming up the stairs, so I kicked the man off me and sped down the hallway and out the Exit door, slamming behind me.

I braced myself against the door and jammed the lock with my bat before falling to my knees.

That man's bandages were still in my grasp, and I flung them over the railing, wishing I could bleach my hands.

As I sat there, trying to catch my brain up to my body, I took in my surroundings.

I was outside on a balcony that connected to a set of stairs. It was extremely foggy and pitch black, save for my flashlight.

I had no idea how far up I was, but I didn't dare to peek over the railing and look down.

'You're almost there, Young-ja. This stairway should lead to the Prison Ward.'

Gathering up my strength again, I rose to my feet and pressed forward.

* * *

The fog somewhat cleared the higher I went up, and as I gazed at the dark terrain below, I realized just how isolated Mount Massive Asylum was from the world.

The stairway was gated with barbed wire and chain linked fences that nicked my arms every time I brushed against them.

Up ahead, I could see where this path connected with the main stairway, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

'Hang on, Miles. I'm almost there.'

Not too far away, I heard someone screaming and running, and I froze in place.

"Shhhhh! Shut up! Shut up, all of you. We're not alone down here. It's just what they want us to think!"

Suddenly, a shirtless man who was thin as a skeleton raced passed me, giving me a heart attack.

I braced myself against the fence and watched the man fade into the fog.

Heart racing in my ears, I gazed up at where the man had come from and spotted a prison watchtower.

'Thank God! Miles, I'm almost there!'

I scampered towards the tower but halted in place when I heard someone running behind me.

Believing it was that screaming man again, I whipped around, my bat ready as the figure grew closer and closer.

"Stay away!" I shouted, praying it couldn't see my shaking hands and legs. "I'm not afraid to hurt you!"

The running figure slowed to a stop, but I still couldn't see its face.

"I'm warning you! Please me leave alone or I will have to hurt you!"

Then, the last thing I expected to happen occurred.

The figure said my name.

"Young-ja? Is that you?" The figure steeped into the light, and I dropped my bat in shock.

"Mr.…Waylon Park?"

**A/N: Young-ja has an ally now! And the dream Miles had in the beginning is actually a memory from their first year of marriage. (excluding the "come find me" quote though.) And Young-ja will come through the Male Ward again~. Think of that as you will. Hahaha. **


	26. Partnership

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**Now that Young-ja is with Waylon, things are going to get really interesting for her now! mwhahaha. Especially when when you-know-who is coming up~**

**Welcome all new readers! Enjoy!**

Of all the people I expected to come across in this asylum, Waylon Park was nowhere on the list.

"Mr. Park! What are you doing here?! A-and why are you dressed like a patient?!"

"I wor-well, I used to work here. But, that is not important right now. What are **you** doing here?!"

"I'm looking for my husband."

"Your hus-?" Something flashed across his eyes, and he bit his lip. "….You…. married Miles Upshur, didn't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but I nodded anyways.

"Yeah. He received an e-mail, asking for him to come check this place out. When he didn't call, I started to have these horrible visions and came here to look for him."

"I see." Ever since he realized Miles' is my husband, he refused to meet my eyes, and an ache started to form in my abdomen.

"Mr. Park, you…..wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

His posture stiffened, and he scratched the back of his neck before replying in a soft voice.

"I…..I was the one who e-mailed Miles. Murkoff hired me as a Software Consultant, and I've seen terrible-horrible things, things that needed to be exposed. I still had the card you gave me, and I knew Miles was already investigating Murkoff, so-."

He never got to finish his explanation.

Why?

Because I decked him in the face with all my might, sending him straight to the ground.

"Wh-?!"

"Do you know what has happened to my husband?!" I pointed to the tower behind me. "When I entered the asylum, I saw some freak in cleric's clothes dragging my husband towards this building! And he wasn't moving! I don't know if he is dead or alive, and I've been through so much shit to get to this point!" I yanked him up by his collar and shook him. "We have a daughter at home, Mr. Park. A beautiful two-year old girl who is probably wondering where her Mommy and Daddy are! She has no idea they are in an isolated asylum with blood thirsty patients and have no way of defending ourselves! And if we die here, no one will know, and it will all be **your** fault!" My voice cracked and I threw him back on the ground. "Miles could already be dead, and I'll never get to hold him again." Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I angrily rubbed my eyes. "Why did this have to happen?! Why him?! Why my Miles?" I hated myself for crying in front of him, but the tears wouldn't stop. "I hate you, Waylon Park. I really do."

Deep down, I knew it wasn't Waylon's fault.

It was no one's fault but Murkoff's.

But I still was angry. At him, at Murkoff, at Miles, and at myself.

"Young-ja," Waylon breathed out, standing up and reaching towards me.

I tried to back away, but he pulled me into his arms and all of my anger instantly vanished.

"Shhh," He cooed, stroking my hair and rubbing my back. "Everything is going to be alright. We're going to find Miles, and we'll walk out of this place together, alright?"

I said nothing, just clung to him and continued crying on his shoulder.

"….I'm sorry, Young-ja. Truly I am."

* * *

Even after I stopped crying, I remain latched onto Mr. Park, feeling drained all of a sudden.

And he didn't push me away, like he also needed some comfort after his own tribulations.

"I am sorry for hitting you, Mr. Park. It isn't your fault any of this happened."

"Oh, Young-ja." He smiled and pulled away. "Don't apologize. I get it, you are angry. So am I. In fact, I want nothing more than to be with my own family right now, but first, we need to get into that prison tower and find the short-wave radio. Then we can alert the police, and then go find Miles. Alright?"

Even after decking him in the face and breaking down on his shoulder, he still tried to cheer me up and make me feel at ease.

Waylon Park truly is a gracious man.

"….Alright, Mr. Park." I bent down and pick up the discarded bat. "Lead the way."

"Young-ja," He laughed. "I'm only 32 years old. Call me Waylon."

"Alright,….Waylon."

* * *

Together, we made our way to the Prison Tower and climbed up the ladder to access the interior.

Once we reached the top, we were met with another patient who was staring out into the dark abyss.

"Don't trust them," He whispered, tightening his grip on the metal railing. "They'll tell you it's science but it's not. They were…..waiting for us. In this place. Billy understood. They've always been here. You…can't hide."

Even though the patients I've come across have caused me nothing but grief, I felt…well, sorry for them. These people were brought here, under the impression that they would receive proper care, only to be turned into guinea pigs.

"Young-ja, the door is th-."

"Waylon, is there any way these people can receive the help they deserve?"

"What do you mean?"

"After we call the police and all of this is brought to light, can these people be transferred to a proper hospital, one that will treat them like human beings?"

Waylon stared at me for a moment before sighing.

"To be honest, I think these people are beyond help. Murkoff's done a number on all of them. But, maybe. Anything's possible." He opened the door and gestured for me to go in. "However, we need to take care of ourselves first."

The door lead into a dim hallway with blood splattered across the walls.

A familiar sight at this point.

Waylon turned on his camcorder's night vision and took his hand in mine.

"Stay close, Young-ja."

We made our way down the hallway, keeping a sharp lookout for anything sinister.

As we passed by piles of decapitated bodies, it frightened me how the sights didn't bother me at all now.

"The security room should be around here." Waylon opened another door and peeked inside. "Aha! There it is!"

He released my hand and scurried over to the small radio settled between a set of monitors.

I went to follow him but was suddenly yanked back by someone.

"Hey-!"

A fist connected with my cheek, and I flew to the ground, my vision turning hazy.

"Ngh! W-Waylon, run!"

My warning came too late.

I saw our attacker hit Waylon on the head with a metal pole before destroying the radio.

'NO!'

Waylon tried to crawl towards me but was rammed back onto the ground by the attacker.

"Waylon Park. You couldn't just.." The man sneered, shoving the pole against Waylon's windpipe. "You couldn't just keep your mouth shut. You couldn't just play along. But you're done talking now…"

I wiped the blood away from my mouth and hurried to my feet, trying to ignore how the room shook with every step.

"Get off of him!" I jumped onto the man's back and yanked him off Waylon.

"Crazy bitch!" He rammed the pole into my gut, causing me to let go of him.

Then he grabbed me by the hair and started slamming my face against a locker door.

Blood gushed from my nose, and I could do nothing but scream.

"Y-Young-ja!" Waylon screamed, still on the ground and blue in the face. "Jeremy! Let…let her go!"

"What?!" Jeremy threw me on the ground next to Waylon. "Is she the one you contacted?! Well, all your efforts were for naught, Mr. Park, because-!"

Then he paused and turned around.

In the distance, I could hear someone screaming and something crashing against the wall.

Jeremy shoved the pole into our faces as he backed out of the room.

"Do me a favor and die here. Both of you!"

Then he was gone.

"Are you alright, Waylon?" I whispered, spitting out blood all the while.

"Forget about me! Are **you** alright?" He took my face in his hands and winced. "Shit. Here, take off your jacket so I can clean your face."

"Don't worry. I came prepared." I groaned, slipping off my backpack. "I brought a first-aid kit."

"Good move, Young-ja." He opened the kit and grabbed some gauze and antiseptics.

But before he could do a thing, the noise from earlier grew louder until it was right outside the room.

Waylon held a finger to his lips and lead me over to the wall, flicking the lights off in the process.

"Stay still, we might need to run pretty soon."

Not two seconds after those words left his mouth, the door busted open and the monster from before stomped in.

"Shit," Waylon hissed under his breath. "It's Chris Walker." Quickly, he gathered me into his arms and stood up. "Hold on tight, Young-ja."

"Wait, I need to grab my bag and baseball bat."

"There is no time for that. We need to get out now." He watched Walker trudge further into the room before bolting out the door. "Hang on!"

He raced down the hallway, hurdling over desks and dead bodies with Walker in close pursuit.

"Little Pigs!" He screamed.

"Oh God, Waylon!" I buried my face into his shoulder. "He's getting closer!"

"He's not going to catch us!" He panted, swerving to the left. "Look, we can lose him through there!"

Waylon slid through a tight gap between two fallen doors and kept running until we couldn't hear Walker's footsteps any longer.

Then he slowed to a stop and leaned against the wall.

"Se-see," He gasped, falling to his knees. "Told you we'd lose him."

"Yeah, um, thank you for carrying me, Waylon." I tried to wiggle myself out of his grip, but he held me close and stood up again.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Young-ja. Let me get you somewhere safe first, then I'll let you down."

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and groaned.

"I'm fine, Waylon. Don't worry."

"Oh, but I do worry." He smirked, continuing down the hallway. "I worry that when we find Miles, he will kick my ass for letting my ex-boss attack his precious wife."

I gave a light chuckled and shook my head.

"Yeah, Miles can be quite scary when it comes to his girls. Especially our daughter. You lay a finger on her, and Miles will have you on your butt before you know it."

"Heh, I'll keep that in mind."

Suddenly, there was a light buzz and an announcement blasted over the intercom.

**Attention Murkoff Personnel, an emergency evacuation is in process, please proceed immediately through the Administration Block to exit. Patients and the restrained are advised to remain calmly in their rooms until help arrives. Thank you for your cooperation.**

"Look like we need to head to the Administration Block."

"_After_ we find Miles first!"

"Of course, I didn't forget." Waylon smiled, shifting me in his arms. "Let go get him now."

We proceeded down the hallway until we came across a man writing on the wall in blood.

"More poor souls," The man turned towards us, a blank expression on his face. "Don't be afraid. You're doing His work. Whether you know it or not."

I squinted at the man, wondering where I'd seen him before.

Then it hit me.

"Hey!" I shouted, causing both Waylon and the 'cleric' to jump. "You're the one who was carrying my husband! Where is he, you bastard?!"

"Young-ja!" Waylon shook me lightly, shaking his head. "Don't make him angry. He could be dangerous."

"I don't care!" I flailed around in his grip, reaching for the 'cleric's' throat. "Tell me where my husband is!"

"My child," The man resumed his writing on the wall. "I don't know where your husband is. Now leave me be. I have to finish my work before the apostle awakens."

"Don't give me that, you fucking nutcase! Tell me wh-!"

Waylon covered my mouth and scurried away until we were out of earshot.

"What the hell, Waylon?!" I snapped the moment he removed his hand. "You said we were going to find Miles! Well, that is the bastard that took him!"

"Young-ja," He stated, sounding like a parent scolding a child. "I promised to help you find Miles, and I am. But, you acting like a maniac is not going to help anyone. Look, that priest's apostle is probably Miles, and if he intends to keep him safe, then he must be locked in one of the cells on the bottom floor. Let's go check there, alright?"

I averted my eyes and didn't say anything, still furious.

"Young-ja." He shook me. "**Alright**?"

"…Alright."

"Good, now hold on. We need to hop down this hole."

I tightened my hold on him as he jumped down to the next floor.

We landed in room with two cells; their occupants yelling profanities at us.

"Ignore them." Waylon sighed, going out into the dark hallway. "They can't hurt us."

"I know. Man, its pitch black in here."

"Here," He gestured to his camcorder. "Could you hold this for me? Just push to right button to turn on night vision."

I did as he instructed, and we continued on our way.

About three minutes into our trek, I heard someone stomping down the hallway.

"Um, Waylon?"

"I hear it too."

He turned around, and I lifted the camcorder up.

Through the lens, we spotted Christ Walker tearing down the hallway towards us.

"Oh, Fuck!" Waylon whipped around and sprinted the other way.

"How did he find us?!"

"That is not important right now! Just shut up and hold onto me!"

Dashing through the various hallways, it seemed like we couldn't shake Walker no matter what we did.

Finally, we reached a dead end.

"Oh God, Waylon." I whimpered. "We're trapped."

Waylon said nothing, just held me close and took a deep breath.

"W-Waylon?"

"Young-ja, do you trust me?"

"What?"

"**Do you trust me**?"

At that moment, Walker turned the corner and headed straight for us, that disgusting grin on his face.

"Yes! Yes!" I screeched. "I trust you! I trust you!"

"Good, then hold on tight. I don't know how high up we are."

"W-wait, what?!"

Waylon took a running start and jumped out the window on our left, sending us outside and into the darkness.

**A/N: The working title for this chapter was "Waylon and Young-ja get their butts kicked, especially Waylon." Haha. In my mind, I always saw Waylon as a gentle person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Waylon and Young-ja would be total BFF's outside the asylum. haha. The next chapter is where things start getting really sucky for Young-ja~. She won't be able to avoid the next few obstacles this time~**


	27. Odyssey

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support. I hope my story continues to please you. I apologize for the delay, but a lot of personal problems happened, and long story short, I ended up in the hospital for a week. But I'm back now and will continue writing. Thank you again for being so patient. **

**Welcome all new readers. Enjoy!**

With a hard thunk, Waylon and I landed on a damp steel roof, rolling apart from the impact.

For a moment, we just laid there and tried to catch our breaths before speaking up.

"Did you…"I panted, crawling to my knees. "Did you actually know there was a landing beneath the window or were you just risking it?"

"Of course I knew there was a landing beneath us!" He scoffed, pulling me up and taking the camcorder out of my death grip. "I could see the outline from the window. I wouldn't jump blindly out of a window, no matter the threat!"

"Liar." I mumbled, my legs still feeling like jell-o. "So what now? We can't go back inside with that monster trashing about."

"Don't worry. We'll just have to take a detour." He moved to the edge of the roof and surveyed the area.

Whatever storm had come, it was long gone now, and it took the mist with it.

Peeking over the roof's edge, I noticed we were on top of a very small storage shed.

"Maybe we can find some supplies in there."

Waylon joined me at my perch and nodded.

"It's worth a shot." He hopped down onto the next platform before turning towards me with his hand out. "I can carry you if you're still dizzy."

"Psh!" I took his hand roughly. "I'm fine. Besides, how can I trust you not to throw me at the next threat and book it?"

He smirked at my jab, and we leapt onto the concrete below.

Behind us, there was a severely dented door illuminated by a single security lamp.

Waylon tried to open the door, but something was blocking it.

Or someone.

"Of course." He looked around and pointed to an open window on the adjacent wall. "That looks like a way in. Come on."

Inside the storage shed, there were several rotten wooden crates stacked on top of each other along with a few metal barrels.

"Not much of a storage area." I approached the tool bench and shifted through the drawers. "Hmm. Did they get rid of the tools here? All of the drawers are completely empty."

"What are you talking about?" Waylon joined me in rummaging the bench. "The maintenance guys just got new equipment last week."

"Then…" A shiver ran down my spine. "Do..you think a patient got their hands on them?"

We stared at each other, not wanting to acknowledge that there might be an armed patient lurking nearby.

"Way-."

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

Both of us flew back in shock at the sudden noise, grasping onto the other.

Across from us, there was a barricaded door with someone banging on it and screaming blood murder.

"Help me! He's coming! HELP ME!"

Then, the banging stopped.

And laugh could be heard.

A spine-tingling, blood curdling laugh.

Slowly, I backed away, never taking my eyes off the door.

"W-Waylon, let's go!" I wailed, my heart almost stopping when my back hit the wall.

"….Yeah." He creaped towards the window and held out his hand. "Hurry up and take my hand, Young-ja."

Just as I moved forward with my hand outstretched, I was yanked back into a dark corner.

"Ah-!"

"Hey!"

A scarred hand covered my mouth while another kept Waylon at bay.

Then, a pair of wet lips were placed against my ear, and my assailant began to sing:

_Above the knees, below the navel, _

_Sliced and sewn on Gluskin's table. _

_To make a place to push inside, _

_The Groom will make himself a bride. _

_Above the knees, below the navel, _

_Sliced and sewn on Gluskin's table. _

_To make a place to push inside, _

_The Groom will make himself a bride._

My fingers went numb at its morbid lullaby, and my eyes were once again glued to the barricaded door.

_Above the knees, below the navel, _

_Sliced and sewn on Gluskin's table. _

_To make a place to push inside, _

_The Groom will make himself a bride._

'Oh god' My eyes widened as the words finally registered in my head. 'Someone is using the tools to mutilate and rape people.'

Pushing the assailant's hand away, Waylon briskly snatched my arm and scrambled out of the window.

Once we were a good distance away, he released me and asked if I was alright.

"I don't want to go in there." I stared at the door illuminated by the security lamp. "Please don't tell me we have to go in there." My voice began to quiver. "Oh God, please don't make me go in there. Don't make me go in there, Waylon!"

"Young-ja!" Waylon gave me a firm shake on the shoulder. "I need you to hold it together for me. Alright?"

I nodded absentmindedly, my gaze still locked on that foreboding door.

**To make a place to push inside, **

**The Groom will make himself a bride.**

'What if he doesn't need to make one? What if this 'Groom' finds a bride? What if he finds….**me**?'

"Young-ja." Waylon took my face in his hands and turned it towards his. "I promise I won't let **anything** happen to you. We are going to find Miles and walk out of here alive and well. Everything will be fine as long as we stick together. But you're going to have to trust me." His smile and earnest expression quelled my fears, and I felt myself smile in return.

"I do trust you, Waylon. And I promise to protect you too. So, please trust me."

He laughed and looped his arm through mine.

"I promise. Now, let's see if we can find another entrance."

* * *

"What is she like?" I asked as we trekked through the darkness, wary of fallen branches and potholes.

"Who?"

"Your wife. What is she like?"

He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before answering me.

"She is a wonderful woman. Throughout my constant business trips, Lisa has always stood beside me. And when we talk, she actually cares about what I say, even if it is stupid. And she offers me advice and guidance through my darkest times." He fished out a notebook from his jumpsuit pocket and gazed at it fondly. "Even now, Lisa is always in my thoughts. I'm the luckiest man on Earth to have her by my side. And she's given more than unconditional love and support; Lisa has also blessed me with two beautiful boys. Two brilliant, precious boys that barely see their father." His hands began to tremble along with his voice. "God, I'd give anything to have the three of them in my arms once more."

My heart broke at his words, and I found myself pulling him into my arms.

"She sounds like a lovely person, Waylon. You are lucky to have someone like her, and she is lucky to have someone like you." I rubbed my hand against his back and smiled. "When we get out of here, let's bring both of our families together and have a picnic. I can make my famous chicken stir-fry."

Waylon gave a small laugh and pulled away, rubbing the remaining tears away from his eyes.

"I think that would be great." He smiled and placed the notebook back in its place. "Thank you for that, Young-ja."

"My pleasure." I laughed, taking his hand in my once hand and continuing down the dirt path.

"So…..what is the Miles like?"

"He has an unbreakable sense of justice, if you can already tell by his resume." I fired back, kicking a pebble aside with a hint of displeasure in my voice. "It is one of the things about him that worries me sick, and now in this situation, it appears that my fears were justified." Waylon stiffened at my side, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "But, it is also one of the things that I love about him. That and his benevolence. Sure, Miles can be a dickward and has the mouth of a sailor, but he loves helping people. Heck, one time he did a U-turn on a one way street to save a kid from bullies." I chuckled at the memory while an ache grew in my chest. "Miles Upshur is a cocky, smartass, bleeding heart dorkface, and I am proud to call him my husband."

"Sounds like my kind of guy. Look forward to meeting him once we get inside the Prison Ward cells."

I smiled and nodded before gazing up at the moon, the ache growing in my chest.

'I miss you so much, Miles. Please be safe wherever you are.'

* * *

After going through an underground hallway and climbing under a shredded fence, we ended up on the other side of the Prison Ward, next to a building called The Vocational Block.

According to Waylon, if we could just get past the first floor of the V.B. and find the connecting hallway, we'd be back in the Prison Ward.

Unfortunately, an electrical fence blocked our way.

"Any ideas where we can turn the current off?"

"Well," Waylon pinched his forehead while racking his brain for a solution. "I think there is a breaker room board nearby. Unfortunately, I didn't visit this part of the asylum often so everything is a little hazy."

"Let's hurry up and find it then."

"Wait," He pointed a dark entranceway on my left. "It might be in here."

As we drew closer to a pair of large double doors, we could see it was partly boarded up from the inside.

"**Of course**." Waylon sighed, turning up the night vision on his camcorder. "No harm in checking though. Come on, Young-ja. Let's check the other side."

"Alright." I was about to follow him when something crinkled under my shoes. "What is this?"

I bent down and picked it up, realizing it is a piece of paper.

With the limited light, I asked Waylon to use his camcorder to read it.

"**Kill Us. Burn the building. Worse than death here. Kill us. Kill Us."**

Suddenly, something clattered from the inside, and our eyes shot to the door.

On the other side of the room, there stood a man with a petrifying grin and a pair of hedge clippers in his hands.

He leered at us for a moment before waltzing away, that grin still plastered to his face.

A moment of silence passed between Waylon and I as we tried to regain our thoughts.

"Do you think…?" Waylon started.

"I think so." I slowly backed away from the door, almost tripping on the stairs. "….We need to hurry up and get out of here. NOW."

* * *

We eventually found the breaker room after spotting a faint light on the other side of a broken gate.

As we descended down the steep stairway, Waylon pushed me behind him and told me to stay close.

Another stack of wooden crates and metal barrels graced our vision, and we winced at the sound of footsteps stampeding above us.

Whoever or whatever was up there, I hoped they weren't aware of our presence.

"There!" Waylon pointed to a switch at the end of the hallway. "That should turn the power off!"

The two of us scurried towards the beacon, trying to ignore the voices coming from above and the patient jacking off to decapitated bodies in a nearby cell.

Waylon flipped the switch off, sending the entire room into complete darkness.

Then, the voices stopped, which did nothing to reassure me.

"Let's go." I grabbed Waylon and hurried back up the stairs. "The quicker we get through that gate, the quicker we can find Miles and get the fuck out of here."

"Music to my ears, Young-ja."

Once we were back outside, there was a mad dash for the gate, the taste of freedom on the tips of our tongues.

Only for the current to turn back on.

"What the fuck?!" I tossed my hands in the air. "Didn't you flip the correct switch?!"

"I did!" He snapped, rubbing his face. "I don't know what is wrong!"

"Well figure it out, Mr. Genius!"

"Give me a damn minute will you?! I don't see you contributing anything! So, shut up and let me think!" He began pacing around, throwing glances at the gate once in a while. "…..Maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe…someone switched it back on…"

My blood ran cold at his explanation.

"You mean….someone was watching us?"

"It's a possibility." He then rubbed the back of his neck. "No….it's the truth. Someone flipped the switch back on after we left."

"Then we have to…."

"Yeah, we got to go back and turn it off."

I sighed and nodded, my fingers going numb again.

"Alright. Let's be quick about it then."

* * *

Waylon and I were glued together as we descended down the stairs once more.

The voices and footsteps were gone, along with the creep in the cell.

"Waylon." I whimpered once we were in front of the electrical switch. "What if it appears once we turn off the power?"

"Then we run for our fucking, miserable lives."

And with that, he flipped the switch off again, and we were attacked from behind.

"Yes." A grotesque voice hissed as our faces were slammed against the wall.

Trying to ignore the throbbing in my skull, I snatched Waylon off the ground and practically flew down the hallway.

"Come to Daddy, Little Girl!" The freak howled after me, hot on our heels. "Let me lick you dry!"

'Shit! Shit! Shit!'

I lost a shoe careening up the stairway, but I'd rather lose that than an arm or whatever this freak would take from me.

"This way!" Waylon shouted once we were back outside.

He all but kicked the now dull gate door off its hinges before dragging me after him.

The freak's footsteps grew closer and closer and I felt like my bronchioles were on fire with every step I took.

Finally, just before I was ready to pass out, Waylon threw me through an open doorway before locking the door behind him.

The freak bashed against the door for a while before slinking away and everything became silent once more.

Waylon and I used this small reprieve to catch our breath and deal with our throbbing headaches.

"Thank you, Waylon." I panted, steadying myself against the door and resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for screaming at your earlier. I'm really grateful to have you with me."

"Forget about it." He wheezed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Your reaction was to be expected. It's no big deal."

"You're too forgiving. That trait will get you into trouble, y'know."

Waylon chuckled lightly and rested his head on top of mine.

"You sound like Lisa. She used to tell me that every day."

"Smart lady." I smiled, feeling the ache dull away. "Feel better now?"

"Yeah, let's keep going."

* * *

Taking in our surroundings, it seemed this was some type of connecting hallway with drain grated floors.

Like it was leading to some sewer or something.

Hand in hand, Waylon and I ambled down the hallway, still on edge from our encounter moments before.

Suddenly, the hallway lights flickered off and a light hiss was heard.

Waylon flicked on his night vision, and through his camcorder, we could see some type of dark cloud moved through the gapes on the floor.

"Oh my God…."

Immediately, I thought of my vision where Miles was being tortured by some dark cloud, and I felt my stomach turn.

"Walrider…"

"Huh?!" I whipped my head towards Waylon, not liking that pained expression on his face. "Waylon, do you know what that thing is?"

"It's what Murkoff has been doing all these insane experiments for." He gazed down at me, a dead look in his eyes. "To create the perfect host for the greatest weapon ever. But, that is one of Murkoff's fatal mistakes."

"What do you mean?" I asked, scurrying after him as he walked away.

"What is mean is, Murkoff only used damaged and unstable minds for their experiments. With a damaged host, the Walrider is uncontrolled. With a sane host on the other hand….." His voice trailed off as he opened a door leading outside.

A part of me wanted him to continue, yet another part of me was glad he stopped because I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the rest.

* * *

I never imagined, during my time here or when Miles was researching them, that I'd discover Mount Massive Asylum's dark secret. That they had created a god-like entity and were using innocent people as lab rats to create an equally god-like host.

'Those sick bastards.'

Shaking my thoughts away, I hurried after Waylon, who was already wadding through a small pond not five feet away.

"Where are we going now?" I clung to the back of his jumpsuit and shivered at the water's icy temperature.

"You see that water tower?" He pointed to the huge structure sitting on the opposite shore line. "There should be a bridge there that goes over the Vocational Block and leads down to the Prison Ward cells."

I heaved a sigh of relief, ecstatic that I was finally going to hold Miles in my arms again.

Once we reached the shore, we climbed up ladder to the small dock in front of the tower.

A security officer's body rested against the gate, and I kicked it into the water, once again finding my indifference frightening.

In the tiny courtyard, there was a gate with a hole underneath it that led to the tower's entrance.

Getting on our hands and knees, Waylon and I crawled through the hole.

Only to have a body smash down on the concrete in front of us.

I screamed while Waylon jumped back and sweared.

"He jumped! Oh God, he actually jumped!"

"An easy way out….Lucky bastard." Waylon murmured to himself, writing something in his notebook.

"What?! What are you talking about?! What 'easy way out'?!"

He shook his head and yanked me after him.

"Forget what I said. We need to keep moving."

"W-Waylon?"

He didn't reply, just kept moving forward at a brisk pace.

'An easy way out? Waylon, what are you thinking?"

* * *

The inside of the water tower truly showed its age from the broken steel beams to the rickety stairwells.

"Watch your step." Waylon cautioned as we gradually walked up the stairs.

The rotten wood groaned under our weight, and I feared it would crumble if we weren't extra careful.

Luckily, we reached a ladder and climbed onto a circular platform before any damage could be done.

There was an open window at the edge of the platform, so we decided to climb out that.

I winced as a shard of glass nicked my palm, and I wished I still had my first-aid kit.

'Well,' I mused to myself as I crawled outside. 'I don't think a little cut will kill me.'

The fog had returned, covering the asylum in a sinister aura once again.

Like it was here as a warning.

We hurried down the walkway but came to a stop when we found that the bridge had been destroyed.

"What now?" I sniveled, grasping on to the railing and falling to my knees. "It's a dead end."

Waylon said nothing, that calculating gleam in his eyes once again.

"Young-ja!" His sudden outburst made me jump to my feet and clutch my chest.

"What?!"

"We are going to jump to the other side."

"….Are you fucking insane?"

"Do you see any other way? Because if you do, I'm more than happy to hear it."

"…No."

"Then get ready to jump. I want you to go first."

I gulped and braced myself against the railing, trying to calm my racing heart.

"If I die Waylon, my soul is going to haunt you for the rest of your life."

"You're going to be fine, Young-ja. Now, take a deep breath and jump."

I nodded and took a few steps back, breathing in and out deeply.

Then, I took a running start and launched myself off the broken bridge and onto the adjacent roof.

I hit the wooden platform hard, and the wind was knocked out of my lungs.

"Are you alright?!" Waylon called out.

Pulling myself to my knees, I gave him a thumbs up, still shaken about the distance I just jumped over.

"Good. Alright, back up. I'm coming over now."

Without a running start, Waylon leapt towards the wooden roof.

But he missed it and ended up dangling on the edge, a plank of the wood the only thing keeping him safe.

A _rotting_ plank of wood the only thing keeping him safe.

"Waylon!" I was about to sprint towards him, but he told me to stay where I was.

"Any slight movement could cause this thing to break in half."

"But-."

"Young-ja," A part of the plank snapped off. "Get out of here. Go find Miles and get as far away from this place as possible. I'll catch up when I can!"

"I'm not leaving you! Just give me your hand!"

"No! Yo-!"

Then, without warning, the plank broke in two and Waylon was thrown into the darkness below.

"AAAHHH!"

"WAYLON!"

**A/N: Young-ja and Waylon are now separated. What will happen now? Especially since you-know-who is about to appear. *looks at next chapter outline* Poor Young-ja and Waylon. **


	28. The Death (of Hope)

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And Mizu. no. Oujo. 1967, thank you so much for your kind words. You are very sweet! :D And, as an apology for being gone for so long, if anyone wants me to draw something-anything- for this story. Let me know! I haven't drawn in such a long time, and would love some prompts.**

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

"WAYLON!" I nearly threw myself over the ledge trying to catch sight of him. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

'Oh God, please don't let him to be dead. Please don't let him be dead!'

All I was greeted with was silence.

"WAYLON, GOD DAMMIT! ANSWER ME!" Tears sprung to my eyes as I gripped the edge of the roof, prepared to jump after him.

Finally, a faint groan drifted up from the darkness, and I felt my heart beat again.

"You're alive! Thank God! Are you alright?!"

Another groan greeted my ears.

'God, he fell down three floors. He probably broke a few bones.'

"D-don't worry!" I scrambled to my feet. "I'll be right there! Don't go anywhere!"

I practically ripped the nearby stairway gate off its hinges before flying down them at a breakneck spped.

'Please don't let anything happen to him! Please!'

* * *

(Waylon)

"Gah….Fuck.!" I clutched the side of my head as I struggled to sit up. "Should've….taken a…running start."

Suddenly, sharp pain ripped through my side, and I fell back to the ground, my breath shallow and weak.

'Fuck….I think…I fractured a rib. But…I can't let that stop me now.'

Bracing myself against a nearby table, I winced as I pulled myself to my feet and looked up at the hole in the roof.

"Young-ja?" It hurt like hell to speak, but I had to let her know I was okay.

"Young-ja? I..I'm..fine." I breathed out, spotting my camcorder laying at the edge of the table. "Are…you alright?"

There was no reply.

"Y-Young-ja?...Crap, please tell me you aren't coming to fine me."

The silence answered my question, and I hit my head against the wood wall in front of me.

"And you say **MY** good intentions will get me killed?! Crazy kid…" I picked up the camcorder and flicked on the night vision. "I….I got to find her before one of the variants do."

Clutching my right side, I stumbled towards the hole in the wall behind me.

"Hopefully, she is just ri-."

"Don't need any sisters. Maybe some….some girls that ain't blood."

I froze in my tracks as a dark figure paced behind the boarded wall five feet from my face.

"You ain't old enough to be worrying about it."

'Another voice? But there is only one perso-oh shit he has dissociative personality disorder.'

The man and his various alter egos continued their mumblings until they were out of earshot.

The minute their voices faded away, I scurried across the room and hopped over a fallen crate, the nerves in my side screaming with every move.

'Suck it up, Waylon! You're no good to your family or Young-ja dead!'

I found myself in a room filled with fallen shelves and crates, like some former storage room.

Slipping between two shelves to gain access to the other side, I froze once more when the dissociative man's personas spoke up again.

"If we had a visitor. If we did. He could be our goat." The soft spoken persona said.

'Fuck, they know I'm here.'

Getting on my knees, I crawled down the aisle as quickly and as silently as I could.

"We need a goat." The speech impediment persona agreed.

I could hear him stalking down the aisles one by one, tapping something metal against the shelves.

Crawling to the right, I slid under a table and could see his bare feet six aisles over.

"What in creation are you talking about?" This persona sounded like an old man.

"He just likes to hear himself talk." A deeper voice. A….father persona?

"To bear our guilt." The soft persona piped up again. "Our gender. A small piece of flesh between us and the blade."

The word 'blade' struck a chord in my brain, and I scrambled forward once more, keeping my back to the shelves.

'Bearing your guilt? What am I, a sacrifice?!'

"A gift for the Groom."

'Me and my fucking big mouth.'

I crawled over a dusty crate and slid between another pair of shelves.

'The Groom…..? Where have I heard that before?'

Suddenly, it hit me and I almost dropped the camcorder.

'He was the one that Variant from the tool shed was singing about …_Jen-jang_*'.

Armed with this new disturbing knowledge, I pressed forward with renewed vigor, trying to ignore the numbing pain from my side.

Once I slid through the aisle, I found myself in an open part of the room, which made me think I was nearing the exit.

'Yes! Hold on, Young-ja! I'm coming!'

However, my good mood was shattered when I turned the corner and almost ran into a body hanging from the ceiling.

"Shit!" I hissed, stumbling back and falling on my butt.

The body swayed back and forth in the breeze like a pendulum, and I struggled to control the pounding of my heart against my injured ribs.

Once I calmed down, I inspected the body and realized it wasn't a murder, but a suicide.

'Lucky bastard. You took the smart way out. Whoever you are…I hope you're at peace now.'

Unfortunately, my vigil for the man was cut short when I heard footsteps nearby.

Quickly, I went around the body and dived into the next maze of shelves.

"Lisa," I mumbled to myself, sliding through another close aisle. "I hope ther -."

"Quiet!" A horribly disfigured Variant shoved his head through a space in the shelf, almost sending me into cardiac arrest.

"If they ca….If they catch us, they'll give us to him. The man downstairs. The man…Very bad." His colorless pupils darted around, and his hand began to convulse. "**Very, very bad…**.God…Oh God!"

Then he raced away, fleeing from someone only he could see.

'Shit, I need to get out of here **NOW**.'

I spotted an opening in the wall adjacent to me and threw myself inside it, hoping to find a way out by hiding in the walls.

But, just as I was making my way through, a pair of fists began slamming against the decaying structure.

"Rats in the walls!" The impediment persona cried out. "Kill the rats!"

He kept pounding on the wall, like he intended to break it down and drag me out.

Like Hell I would let him though!

I tore down the path and darted into the room on the left, looking for something-anything-that would get me out of here.

Turning to my right, I spotted a metal crate blocking a hole and quickly braced the side and started pushing.

That was a horrible idea.

"Fuck!" I clutched my side and almost collapsed onto my knees.

The pain had increased, and if I didn't get out of here soon, my ribs would puncture my lung.

'What would you do in this situation, Lisa? …..Probably tell me to suck it up and keep going, right?'

I smirked at the thought and began pushing the crate once more, biting my cheek to silence my whimpers.

Finally, the hole became accessible, and I scurried through.

I weaved through several more shelves, walls, and tried every single damned locked door, only to feel like I was only going deeper into Hell than out of it.

. .worse.

After launching myself over a wall and nearly breaking my ankle, the Dissociative Variant finally found me, and he was armed with a freaking machete.

"There he is! What do you think?"

"Oh, he'll do. Let's give him to the Groom."

"Oh, like hell you are!" I took a sharp left and ran for my fucking, miserable life.

"He's getting away! The Groom'll have us!"

'How about he has none of us?!'

I found a stack of boxes that lead up to a loft and climbed up it, kicking the boxes as I passed them to prevent the Variant from following me.

"Shut up! We'll find a way around. We know this ground and don't mind huntin'."

Collapsing onto my knees, I used this tiny respite to catch my breath and deal with my side, which was starting to form a nasty bruise.

"Oh Lisa, I'm never going to get out of h-HOLY SHIT!"

Like a gift sent from the Heavens, a stairway was settled to the left of the loft, like it was beckoning me.

"Yes!" I scurried to my feet and hopped onto the wooden floor below. "Freedom!"

As I raced down the stairs, I could hear the Dissociative Variant laugh in the distance.

"Here comes your bride, Mr. Gluskin."

And just like that, the Stairway to Heaven turned into the Highway to Hell.

'Young-ja,' I gulped as I reached the bottom floor, seeing a light behind a curtain in the distance. 'Please, wherever you are, don't come and find me.'

Slowing making my way towards it, I told a shallow breath before moving the curtain aside.

Then, I fell to my knees and threw up at the repulsive sight before my eyes.

'Please, Young-ja, spare yourself and **DO NOT COME AND FIND ME**.'

* * *

(Young-ja)

After what must've been an hour, I still hadn't found Waylon and was now hopelessly lost.

"Dammit, I hope he's alright."

It appeared I was in a former arts and crafts room from how many sewing machines laid scattered on the table.

'Did a place like this really have an art program? That seems so…..normal.'

A stack of payers lay next to one of the isolated sewing machines, so, curious, I shuffled through them.

Whoever drew these was extremely talented.

Every page had a breathtaking wedding dress design from ruffly bodice to lacy gloves.

It was apparently to anyone that a lot of love was placed into these designs.

"What a shame." I sighed, placing the illustrations back on the table before walking away. "This person could've been a great fashion designer. What wasted talent."

Then, just as I was re-entering the hallway, I heard a faint scream in the distance.

It sounded like….**Waylon**!

"Oh God!" I whipped around on my heel and tried to find the source of the scream.

Then, my blood froze when I heard another voice.

"Tell me you are okay! I hate to think of you suffering without me!"

That voice….that charming tone…why does it send chills down my spine?

I continued after the echoes, and from the sound of it, they were coming from the floor below.

With every step I took, the voice grew louder and more coherent.

"You'd rather….rather die than be with me?" The charming voice sounded so forlorn and heartbroken. "….**Then die**."

But it was immediately replaced with a tone of disgust, and I knew Waylon was in huge trouble.

"Fuck." I whispered before sprinting further down the hallway.

When I turned the corner, I heard the elevator coming to life from the shaft to my left.

Then, I could hear the charming voice right below me.

"What have you…..? Ha! Then we continue!"

The sick pleasure in his voice made me want to throw up, but I just settled for opening the metal shaft gate and watching the elevator move back down.

'I have to hurry and find Waylon before that freak does!'

Once I was sure the elevator's occupant was gone, I slammed the call button and watched it come back up.

'Hurry up! Hurry up, you stupid machine!'

The moment the elevator stopped, I threw myself and slammed the down button rapidly.

"Come on, you fucking machine! My friend is in danger! Move it!"

Finally, the damned thing moved down at a slug's pace, and I didn't bother waiting for it to settle before dashing out.

Splatters of blood trailed down the left hallway, and I felt my skin pale.

'I swear, if this is Waylon's blood-'

My thoughts were interrupted when a loud clang echoed down the hallway.

"Fuck! Let me go, you psycho!"

'Waylon!'

I was about to run towards the sound of his voice, when the charming voice butted in.

And he was getting louder by the second.

"Oh, darling. You make yourself a gift for me. A delicacy to be unwrapped and—unwrapped again. And _savored_."

The way he whispered at the end gave me shivers, and I hid behind a large crate when the voice was the next hallway.

It sounded like he was dragging something-something heavy and metal.

"I'm not your fucking 'darling'! And I'm not a woman! Let. Me. Go!"

Though he was so close, Waylon's voice sounded muffled…like..he was inside something.

Daring a peek over the side, I found my answer.

A large, hulking man was dragging a bent-up locker behind him, a locker where Waylon's screams drifted from.

But, that wasn't the part that caught my attention.

No, it was the man who captured Waylon.

I immediately recognized that smile on his face as the same smile I saw in window near the maintenance shed.

'**The Groom**….'

Plastering myself against the wall, I waited until he and the locker passed before peeking out once more.

I tried to think of what to do next, but all I could think of was the lullaby that patient sung in my ear.

_Above the knees, below the navel, _

_Sliced and sewn on Gluskin's table. _

_To make a place to push inside, _

_The Groom will make himself a bride_

"**Oh God**.." I covered my mouth, my body shaking and tears forming in my ears. "He's going to mutilate Waylon into one of his brides, then he will…."

I couldn't bear to finish my sentence, so I wrapped my arms around my knees and curled into a ball.

I knew I had to go after Waylon, rescue him from this nutcase because….

Because he is my friend and I knew he would do the same for me.

So, why couldn't I move?

Why wasn't I already down the hall and snatching him away from this horrible fate that awaited him?

Am I that much of a coward….that I care about myself more than him?

My shivers turned into sobs, and as I leaned against that wooden crate, I wanted nothing more than for this to be a horrible nightmare. I'd wake up and Miles would be next to me, snoring away like always. Then Ae-cha and Annie would come barreling in and demand to eat breakfast. Miles would pretend to still be asleep, so Ae-cha would climb on top him and poke his face, chanting "Daddy, wake up!". And Miles would groan and open his eyes, saying "My Cheerio is very bossy" before taking our giggling girl into his arms and kissing her forehead. Then he would turn to me and kiss me good morning, just like always.

Just like it should be.

But….this wasn't a dream.

And….I wasn't the only one who wanted to be back home.

Waylon has Lisa and his sons.

Lisa and the boys are waiting for him, just like how Ae-cha and Annie are waiting for Miles and me.

'We all have people to live for.'

It was that thought alone that made me swallow my tears and climb to my feet.

"H-Hold on, Waylon." I sniffed, bracing myself against the wall and following the locker indentions on the ground. "I'm coming to get you."

* * *

The trail marks lead me to a room drenched in blood with body parts piled up in the corner like garbage.

A wooden table sat in the middle of the room, blood caked onto the surface and a rusty buzz saw in the middle. Chucks of flesh, both old and new, hung from the dull blade and I could just hear the screams of all the people 'The Groom' got his hands on.

I spotted the locker across the room and raced towards it, shoving my face against the open slits.

"Waylon!" I whispered. "Waylon! It's me, Young-ja!"

I could see him crumpled at the bottom of the locker, and I could detect the faint odor of chloroform.

'Shit, he drugged him.'

"Don't worry, Waylon." I placed my hand onto the vent, hoping he could somehow sense my presence. "I'm going to find a pry bar and get you out of here, so just wa-."

Before I could utter another word, a large, gloved hand covered my mouth and I was shoved back against a hard chest.

I couldn't even struggle because a sharp blade was immediately placed against my chest, and the world became cold.

'…No…' I whimpered, tears streaming down my cheeks. '**Oh God no**…!'

"Ah, my darling." 'The Groom' sighed, burying his nose into my hair and inhaling deeply. "You've finally come home to me."

**A/N:**

***-a very rude way of saying 'shit or damn it' in Korean**

**So, Young-ja is in The Groom's clutches, and Waylon won't be able to help her since he is knocked out for the next 12 hours. And, just a far warning, the next chapter is going to be pretty graphic. I figure most of you have played or seen walkthroughs of the Whistleblower DLC, so I think you can guess what I mean. Look forward to seeing you in the next chapter! **


	29. Awakening

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**Alright, ignore my warning from the last chapter. I forget I needed to do this before moving on. It is a short chapter, but I felt it needed to be done.**

**I welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

(Miles)

"Fuck…" The harsh fluorescent lights stung my eyes as I slowly opened them after Lord knows how long. "What the….what the hell did that priest give me?"

The room spun as I sat up and let my eyes slowly adjust to the bright lights.

"Shit," I rubbed my face, feeling like centuries had passed. "How long was I out?"

Peeking down at my watch, the hands pointed to 4:18 a.m. and I felt my heart drop.

'I have been out for four freaking hours?! When I get my hands on that priest…' I fumed internally, scooting to the edge of the cot and rubbing my temples.

'And what was with that dream?'

"Hurry up and find me?" I repeated, reaching out and grabbing my camcorder from the edge of the bed. "The fuck does that me-?"

I shot to my feet, the haze clouding my brain suddenly gone at my revelation.

"Oh my FUCKING God, Young-ja! If you came to find me, I swear-!"

Livid, I pulled at my hair and tried not to kick the wall down.

"No,no, she wouldn't do that," I reassured myself. "She is probably worried sick since I haven't called, but Young-ja wouldn't come here. She read the e-mail and acknowledged the possible dangers. She wouldn't risk her safety for mine."

In truth, I was just trying to make myself feel better.

Knowing Young-ja, as her best friend and husband, I know she would go to the ends of the Earth to ensure my safety.

But, all I had to go on was a stupid dream.

And twelve years of learning how idiotically selfless my wife can be.

'No. No. This is stupid. Young-ja would never leave Ae-cha by herself. …She could be a babysi-ACK! STOP!'

Realizing my paranoia wasn't doing shit for my situation, I pushed all those thoughts aside and focused on where I was.

It appeared to be a cell-a cell with a shit ton of religious symbolism and messages painted onto the decaying walls.

**Rest in Peace**

**Glory to the Walrider**

And several other messages that made this cell seem like a tomb.

It didn't take my long it figure out this was probably that priest's cell.

"If you seriously believe I'm going to be your 'witness' for whatever bat shit crazy you're trying to sell me, then you got another thing coming."

Having enough of this, I waltzed up to the cell door and was not surprised to find it locked.

I was surprised, however, when someone slammed their body against the door, unlocked it, then scurried away.

"And they say chivalry is dead."

The door opened into a dimly lit hallway that screamed "Pleasant things happened here. :D"

I stepped out and peeked over the railing in front of me. Hundreds off cells circled around the walls, half of them opened and the other half without doors. Some of the patients were pacing around, mumbling jibberish only they could understand, while others were curled into balls or banging their skulls against the metal columns.

'Hope none of them are like that Big Fuckface from the Administration Block. Don't bother me, and I won't bother you.'

On the floor opposite of me, I could see an 'Exit' sign in the distance and made my way towards it.

Only to find access was blocked by a metal gate and a patient screaming at me.

"Get back! Back! Get the fuck away from me! Rrah!" The patient shook the metal bars with such force that I was afraid they would break. "Huh…Don't you look at me! Don't you dare look at me!"

Then he race away, still shouting at me to stay away.

"Wonder where that door opener went. Could really use him to open this damn gate right now."

After kicking the gate a few times, I moved to the far side of the floor to see if the gate over there was unlocked.

On the bottom floor, I could hear someone crying and punching the ground, while chanting, "Too many voices. They followed me back. No more sleep."

'Voices? Does this have to do with the experiments that e-mail mentioned? What were the experiments for anyways? Murkoff wouldn't do this for the shits and giggles. No, they had a reason. But w-'

I was brought out of my musings when someone punched their fucking arm through their cell window and tried to grab me.

"Shit!" I jumped back and nearly flipped over the railing. "God dammit! What the hell?!"

They retracted their arm and proceed to stare at me with a hideously scarred face.

'It's like someone was in the process of ripping of its face and never came back to finish the job.'

Quickly, I turned on my camcorder's night vision to get a better look at him.

'Might as well get as much as I can. The more evidence, the better.'

Continuing my trek down the hall, I spotted a stairway on my right and was about to race down it when a voice caught my attention.

"Who's this?"

Whipping to my left, I could see two figures standing in the darkness behind another metal gate.

"_Maybe Father Martian's man_." said another voice.

'So that's the asshole's name.'

I observed them through my lens and felt a shiver shoot down my spine.

They looked like twins and were naked, but that wasn't what unnerved me.

What bothered me were their speech patterns.

They spoke coherently and calmly, like they were aware of their situation.

Like they still had a grasp on reality.

And that is what made them so fucking creepy.

"I would like to kill him."

'Oh fuck me.'

"_As would I_."

"The preacher asked us not to."

"_It would be impolite_."

'Alright, 'Father' Martian, maybe I'm won't kick your ass.'

"Not here."

'…Nevermind. I'll kick your ass if these guys don't eat mine first.'

"_We give him a running start_?"

"There's an idea."

"_Then we kill him, we kill him slow_."

'…Fuck, I got to get out of here now!'

I slowly backed away and blindly grasped behind me until I could feel the staircase rail. The moment the metal railing was in my grasp, I booked it down the stairs.

That was, until the Twins said something that caught my attention.

"We won't let him slip away like that little girl did."

"Scurried off like the mouse she is."

That ache in my chest grew again, and my denial that Young-ja might've followed me to the asylum was slowly fading away.

'I hope I'm wrong' I told myself, continuing down the stairway. 'I'm hope I'm completely wrong.'

Please, God, don't let Young-ja be in this hellhole.

**Please**.

* * *

(On the outskirts of Denver)

"Ms. Johnson." A tiny voice called out to me, and I peered around my armchair to find little Ae-cha standing in the hallway. Her long black hair was standing on ends, and she had Annie snuggled under her left arm.

"What is it, sweetheart? You should be in bed. Little girls shouldn't be up at this time for night." When Mrs. Upshur dropped her off, I immediately sent her to bed since it was so late, but I know she has been tossing and turning all night long. Even if I didn't hear her moving about, the bags under her eyes were evidence enough.

"Where are Mommy and Daddy?" Ae-cha pattered over to me and bunched up my nightgown in her tiny fist. "She said back soon. Why not back now? Why?!"

"Oh, sweetie." I cooed, stroking her wavy locks and trying to soothe her. "Tell me, has your Mommy ever broken a promise?"

"No!" She shook her head. "Mommy always keeps promise!"

"Then, you need to be patient and have faith in her. Your Mommy made you a promise, and she will keep it. But, she needs you to be a good girl and go to sleep. Then, when you wake up, both of your parents will be here. Alright?"

"….Alright." The disappointment in her voice broke my heart, and I found myself gazing at the clock. 'It has been quite a long time. That Upshur boy always gets himself into trouble, going to God knows where when he has a wife and child at home. I just hope he hasn't gone too far and taken his wife with him.'

I gazed down at Ae-cha who had fallen asleep in my lap, Annie still in her clutches, and sighed.

'If I haven't heard anything by six, I'm calling the police.'

**A/N: I felt like it was time for Miles to wake the heck up. And I wanted to check in on Ae-cha. So, this chapter was short, but I need to have Miles wake up before continuing. The next chapter will be a long one!**


	30. The Groom

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**Please check out my profile! ASMxHF on tumblr drew a wonderful picture for this fanfic. However, Fanfiction is being a butt and I can't show you the entire thing. I have the URL on my profile since FF is being stupid and not linking to it. It is on my tumblr blog for this story: writeanddrawthis.**

**And warning: This chapter has mentions of sexual themes and assault.**

**I welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

"Oh my Darling." 'The Groom' sighed blissfully while dragging me away from the locker that held Waylon captive. "You smell heavenly."

I said nothing. Fear was lodged into my throat, so all I could do was let him drag me away like a ragdoll. As Waylon's locker grew smaller and smaller, it felt like my only chance at survival was also diminishing.

'Snap out of it, Young-ja! Move your arms, dammit!'

He took me into a small room with chains and metal bars jutting from the ceiling. It looked some sort torture room, and I felt my heart drop to the floor.

The moment he loosened his grip, I raced to the other side of the room and hid behind a fallen locker.

"Now, now, there is no need to be bashful, Darling." 'The Groom' cooed, waltzing towards me with his arms out.

"G-Get away from me!" I blindly searched behind me for anything to protect myself with. The patient's song still rung in my head, and that terrible thought bloomed in my brain once again.

'Is he going to butcher me too?'

"I know you don't mean that. Now, come here." He roughly pulled me away from my hiding spot by the arm before whipping me around and pinning me against his chest once again. "There is something I must check first."

My breath hitched in my throat when I felt one of his hands slowly slide down my cheek and towards my neck.

"Such soft skin." He said so gently, but it made me want to throw up. I wanted nothing more than to tear his hands off and bleach my skin.

But I couldn't.

I was too petrified by what he could do while I was at his mercy. That knife was still in his grip, pressed against my abdomen like a warning to not upset him. And even if I didn't, there was no guarantee I would come out of this place unscathed…..or alive.

His hand drifted lower and lower until it was right over my breast, then all was still.

It seemed like he was thinking about something, which made me panic more. Was he going to kill me now? Drag me back to that blood-covered surgery bed and slice me into pieces like the many others before?

The silence and my thoughts were broken when 'The Groom' suddenly turned me around and forced me to stare into his eyes.

Before, I could only inspect his outline or part of his features due to the poor lighting. Now in proper lighting, I could see him perfectly. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with an array of blisters and skin peelings littering the right side of his face. The blood vessels in his once blue eyes were all popped, rendering them completely bloodshot. And he towered over me like a giant, making me feel weak and insignificant.

Then, I realized how powerless I was when 'The Groom' pushed me onto the damp ground with ease before climbing on top of me.

"H-Hey!"

"Pardon me, Darling. But I have to check something first." He lifted his knife up to the collar of my shirt before slicing the fabric down my navel.

"NO!" I flailed around, trying to stop him, and my heels rammed against his temple, stunning him for a moment.

"Ngh!" He eased back and clutched the right side of his face.

Seizing the moment, I scrambled out from under him and flew out of the door.

"Get back here, you bitch!" He shouted after me, which confirmed my fear that the charming exterior was just that-an exterior.

"Gotta get out here. Gotta get out of here."

I leaped over a fallen table and back towards open area where Waylon was. The moment the locker came into my line of vision, I practically plastered myself onto the door and banged on it furiously.

"Waylon! Goddamit! Wake up! Wake the fuck up now!" I cried, hearing 'The Groom's' footsteps echoing down the hallway. "Please! Waylon, you promised me we'd get out together, so wake up!"

But my screaming and banging did nothing.

Waylon was out cold, and the footsteps were growing louder and louder.

So, with a heavy heart, I told Waylon I was sorry before running away.

'Please forgive me, Waylon. But I'm no good to you or Miles dead. I promise to come back for you though. So, please, hold on until then!'

* * *

I had no idea where I was going, but if it got me away from that creep, then I was fine.

'The Groom's' tone was no longer angry or threatening.

No, now he was…..singing to me?

_When I was a boy my mother often said to me: "Get married, son, and see how happy you will be."_

_I have looked all over, but no girlie can I find, who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind;_

_I will have to look around until the right one I have found._

That song.

It was a popular barbershop quartet-like song from 1911 by Harry Von Tilzer and William Dillon.

Why this song though?

A song about a boy with an Oedipus complex.

Could….could this man be turning his victims into images of his mother before killing them?

I shivered at the thought and continued treking down the dark hallway, trying to keep my steps as light as possible.

"Darling," His voice bounced off the empty walls. "it is only natural to have pre-wedding jitters! If you come back and apologize, I'm willing to forgive you."

'Apologize? Like Hell I will!'

A vent louver hung from the ceiling nearby, so I quickly hopped up and climbed in.

It squeaked under my weight, and I froze in place, hoping I didn't give away my position.

Moments later, 'The Groom' passed under the vent's opening and I saw him glancing left and right.

"Y'know, Darling." He called out, his tone mockingly sweet. "A good wife is supposed to listen to her husband. I promise to be good to you if you are good to me."

I wanted to lean over and puke on his deformed, sexist head.

'What does he think this is? The 1950's?'

"That hole in your heart. I can fill it with love and nourishment; just give me a chance to be a wonderful husband to you and father to our children."

My heart stopped at the mention of children, and then I **really** felt like throwing up.

'Oh God, I definitely can't let him catch me now.'

After standing there for a moment longer, 'The Groom' continued down the hallway, whistling a tune.

Once I was sure the coast was clear, I dropped out of the squeaky vent and back on the floor.

There had to be an exit somewhere nearby. I thought if I could retrace my steps, I'd find my way back to the roof.

But, as I surveyed my surroundings, it dawned on me that I was lost.

Completely and utterly lost.

"Fuck." I hissed under my breath. "What now?"

I could still hear 'The Groom' singing in the distance, so I decided to dart into a nearby room and plan my next move there.

All of the windows in this room were boarded up with only the tiny streams of moonlight slipping through the cracks as my source of light. I placed my hands on the wall and carefully made my way into the room, searching to something-anything- to hide under if 'The Groom' happened to walk by.

Luckily, in the poor lighting, I could spot a tiny cabinet like the one in the record's room in the Administration Block and crawled inside it.

Once I secured the door behind me, I allowed myself to breathe for the first time in a while.

And, with that single breath, my body became a lead weight. I tried to think of a plan, but all I could do was lean my head against the wooden wall and stare into the darkness.

I knew.

I knew about the dangers that letting my guard down could bring in, but…..I didn't care.

My body felt so drained and empty, that all I wanted to do was sleep.

With heavy eyelids, I dung into my jacket pocket and pulled out my wallet. Even in the darkness, it could still make out the picture in the front slot.

It was a photograph of Miles and me on our wedding day. Miles had swept me up in his arms and was twirling around while I laughed and buried my face into his neck.

"_Miles! Put me down, you dork! We still have to cut the cake!"_

"_But how can I?! I'm finally married to you, and I'm never letting go! Mwhaha!'_

Then Sophia snapped our picture with a sappy grin and fawned over us.

That was one of the happiest days of my life.

Tears prickling at my eyes, I placed the photo against my chest and closed my eyes.

"Miles…."

* * *

(Miles)

"Fuck this place. Seriously, fuck this place." I cursed under my breath, backing away from the necromantic who was still calling me 'sick' and a 'pervert'. "Dying just keeps moving lower on the list of things that could happen to me."

Moving out of the shadows, I found myself in a hallway littered with the corpses of mangled security guards. It was like someone was trying to finger paint on the wall with their blood and innards.

"Poor bastards."

Whoever did this to them was long gone, and they locked all the doors behind them since I couldn't open a single fucking one.

The only route that remained open was the hallway to my right. Following it, I found myself on the other side of the Prison where that screaming patient was.

Recalling the freaky twins on the other side, I slowly peered to my right, only to see the area empty.

'Shit, don't tell me they actually gave me a hard start. Fuck, this is like a morbid game of hide-and-seek.'

The pathway to the other side was demolished, save for half a foot of concrete jutting from the wall.

As carefully as possible, I placed my back to the wall and inched my way towards the other side.

The patients from before were still pacing around the ground floor, screaming about something crawling around their blood and minds.

'Damn, Murkoff really did a number on this people.'

Once I was safe on the other side, I tore down the hallway, only for a hand to shot through the metal bar and grab my wrist.

"What th-?!"

"You, ah, didn't wait until I finished. But I saved some for you." The man laughed, swinging my arm back and forth like a child. Taking a close look at his face, I realized it was the patient who set me free. "Just wait. Wait…"

Then he released me before giggling once more and racing down the stairs.

His hand was covered in some type of black powder that left a handprint on my wrist. No matter how hard I rubbed it, the mark wouldn't go away.

"I hope you didn't brand me for some psychotic sacrifice." I mumbled, flicking on my camcorder's night vision before pressing on.

At the next turn, I found a message scrawled on the wall in blood.

**God Always Provides A Way**

**Follow The Blood**

"A message from Father Martin?" I guess I know who's been finger painting with the blood then.

Something bubbled in my chest as the thought of following these blood messages left by a deranged 'priest', but at this point, what other choice did I have?

Before proceeding into the airlock on my left, I absentmindedly rubbed my bare left ring finger, thinking of the girl who has my rings and the woman who gave them to me.

"Young-ja…"

* * *

(Young-ja)

I don't know how long I sat in that dark, cramped cabinet. What was probably only twenty minutes felt like years. Trying to shake off my exhaustion, I attempted to formulate my next move.

'The Groom' was either still looking for me or moved onto his next victim, so I had to act quickly. Maybe I could find the elevator shaft and return to the roof. This building is connected to the Prison Block and Male Ward, so I could scale the tops until I reached that lookout tower on the Prison roof again. Hopefully, my backpack and bat would still be there. From that point, I could take myself to the Cell Block and rescue Miles, so we can rescue Waylon and get out of this place.

In truth, it wasn't a solid plan.

Hell, it wasn't even a smart plan, but it was all I could think of.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly made my way out of the tiny cabinet and crawled to my feet.

"Alright, now to get to t-Oh shit!" I gasped as I rammed into something, sending it toppling to the floor.

I waited with bated breath for 'The Groom' to burst into the room and haul me away to God knows where, but nothing happened.

Once I sure of my safety, I bent down and picked up what I had bumped into. In the terrible light, I couldn't make out what it was, but after running my hand over it a few times, I figured out it was a mannequin wearing some kind of linen dress.

"What is this doing here? It wasn't here bef-." My blood ran cold as I realized what this meant.

I whipped around when I heard laughter and spotted 'The Groom's' outline next to the cabinet.

"Done playing games, Darling?" He slowly waltzed over to me, that sinister grin on his face. "Good."

Then, the world went dark.

* * *

When I awoke, I was laying on a wooden table and 'The Groom' was tying my legs to a wooden post.

"W-what are you doing?!"

"I can't have you running away again, Darling." He cooed in that mockingly sweet tone. "After the wedding, I'm going to have to teach you so manners."

"Man-?"

I was suddenly cut off when he smacked me hard across the cheek, causing me to bite my tongue.

"Gah!"

"Do you whores enjoy causing me pain?" He barked, sneering down at me with cold eyes. "I've done nothing but love you. And how do you repay me? By running away!"

He smacked me again, this time drawing blood.

My face stung and my eyes burned with tears, but I refused to let him see me cry. No, I wasn't going to give this bastard the satisfaction.

"You filthy, ungrateful bitch! Am I not good enough for you?! No, I'm not apparently since you've been sleeping with another man!"

"Wh-?!"

"Don't try to hide it!" He punched me hard, causing blood to spurt from my nose. "Ugh! What a hideous sight to behold." 'The Groom' spat at me before whipping out something from a table nearby. "I'm talking about this!"

It was the wedding photo, and I felt my heart clench in my chest.

"That.." I gurgled, blood following into my mouth. "That…is my husband."

"Liar!" He hit me again, this time blood flowing from my temple. "I'm your husband, you whore! Not this bastard!"

Then, he ripped the photo into shreds, and I could feel my heart shatter along with it.

However, I didn't say a word, just bit my lip and tried to hold back the tears.

"Now," His charming tone had returned, and he caressed my cheek, as if he didn't just smash my heart into pieces. "shall we continue?"

He grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and climbed on top of me once more.

And this time, I couldn't fight back.

All I could do was scream and beg him to stop as this man-this monster-sliced off my clothes piece by piece. Of all the monsters I've come across in this asylum, this man was the worst of them all.

Why not Walker or the Twins or the several other patients that have posed a threat to me?

Why 'The Groom'?

It was because this man, this 'Groom', was real.

This was the man who your parents warned you about; the man you always saw on the news who raped and murdered numerous of girls; the man who lured you in with sweet words before showing his true colors; the man who cat calls you and is furious when you reject his 'affections'.

The man you thought you'd never meet.

The man you thought you were immune from.

"I wasn't wrong." He gasped, staring down at my naked body. "You're perfect. Nothing vulgar…just beautiful."

He took my breasts in his hands and stroked them as I screamed my lungs out.

"PLEASE STOP! STOP IT!" I was no longer attempting to hide my tears, and I struggled against my restraints to no avail.

"No need to play coy." He chuckled, leaning down and kissing down my neck. "I know you want this, so drop the act."

"NO! I DON'T! STOP TOUCHING ME!" The ropes dung into my wrists painfully, drawing blood with every movement. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

He didn't stop; he kept touching me with those vile hands like I was so object to be admired.

And I couldn't do a thing.

"PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP ME!" I cried, the tears coming faster and faster as his hand went in between my legs. "MILES! MILES!"

"Shut up!" 'The Groom' covered my mouth, his breath ghosting over my face. "A good wife knows when to be silent. Now, I promise we will consummate our love after the wedding." He crawled off the table with a grin. "Don't worry. I'm just as eager as you. Now, be a good girl and wait here."

Then he left.

And I laid on the table, naked and dirtied.

'He touched me. He touched me with his disgusting hands.'

I sobbed against my left arm, wishing someone would come and burn my body.

Burn away the feeling of that creature's hands against my skin, touching me against my will. But, no one came and granted me that kindness.

So I continued to lie there, sullied and broken in that cold, dark room.

* * *

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Darling." 'The Groom' laughed as he re-entered the room with something white draped over his arm. "You're so excited, aren't you?"

He reached out towards me, and I flinched, whipping my head the other way.

"Aw, did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry." I whimpered when a damp cloth was pressed against my face, scrubbing off the dried blood and tears. "It's just…you know how a man gets when he wants a woman."

"Fuck off.." I whispered, starting at Waylon's locker in the distance.

"That is something else I need to fix. A good wife and proper lady doesn't use such crude language." I felt him loosen the ties around my wrists and ankles. Once they were free, I let them plop down on the wooden table like dead weights. I could see how raw my wrists were, and I closed my eyes as they throbbed against the cool air.

"Now, it is time for the blushing bride to put on her wedding dress." He unfurled the bundle on his arm to show off a white wedding gown with a train.

I thought back to the sketches I found in that room and felt bile rise in my throat when I realized he was the one who drew them.

"Up, up, Darling." He patted the wooden table. "I want to see you all dressed up."

But I didn't move.

I just laid there, staring at everything and nothing.

'The Groom' sighed and grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my wrists.

"You need to be more obedient." He hauled me onto my feet. "Now, arms out."

I did as he told me, feeling much like a broken doll in bin at some flea market.

"You're so skinny." He tutted, tightening the corset. "You must eat more, Darling. Otherwise, how will you bare our children?"

"I already have a daughter." I whispered under my breath.

"There." He chuckled, backing away and clasping his hands together. "You are beautiful."

I stared down at the dress, tempted to rip it off and shove it down his throat.

But I didn't.

He reached out to take my hand, but I snatched it away and averted my eyes, his touch now like fire to me.

"How enduring. My blushing bride is bashful." He grasped both of my hands in a death grip and began twirling me around like I was a marionette doll.

Then he began to sing.

_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream_

_I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_

He twirled me around again before forcing me to look at him.

"Sing for me, Darling."

I slowly nodded and opened my mouth, my voice hoarse and foreign to me.

_Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_

_But if I know you, I know what you'll do_

_You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_

"Ah, such a beautiful sound." He sighed, his hands sliding down my back. I would've jerked away, but his grip kept me stationary. "Like a songbird."

Then, he did something awful.

He kissed me.

And I lost it.

With newfound strength, I shoved him away and decked him in the face.

He fell to the ground with a crash, and I ran for my life, the dress's skirt and train gathered up into my arms.

"YOU BITCH!" He screamed, giving chase. "GET BACK HERE!"

I ran as fast as I could, but with the gown's weight, I struggled to stay ahead.

'The Groom's' footsteps grew closer and closer until I was yanked back by my hair and shoved against the wall.

"Ah!"

"You rotten, dirty whore!" He spat against my face. "How dare you defy your husband?!"

"You're not my husband!" I screamed, struggling against him with all my might.

"God dammit! Stay still!" He tried to keep me pinned against the wall, but I kept slipping out of his grasp.

"Dammit, Darling! STAY. STILL!" He screamed, whipping out a knife from his belt and ramming it through my right hand and pinning to the wall.

"AHHH!"

"Now look at what you made me do!" He sighed. "I hate to do this, but you need to learn a lesson."

With a smile, he placed his hand on the hilt of the knife and pushed it deeper.

"AAAHHH!" I screamed, latching my hand on top of his, trying to pull him away. "FUCK!"

"Language, Darling!" He clutched my face with one hand, digging his nails into my cheeks until they drew blood. "Ungrateful whores like you don't deserve to live. You leave me no choice but to string you up with the rest of them."

But, before he could make another move, I heard that whisper of voices again.

The same voices I heard near the water tower with Waylon.

'Oh fuck..'

'The Groom' whipped his head towards the left and back away.

"Maybe I won't have to." He said with a light chuckle. "You are about to get your just desserts, you little whore."

With a final chuckle, he ran down the hallway and out of sight.

Slowly, the voice grew closer and closer.

"Shit!" I grabbed the knife and tried to yank it out, but with every attempt, pain ripped through my arm and I screamed in pain.

'Come on! You're going to die if you stay here, so MOVE!'

Sucking a deep breath, I pulled at the knife, biting my lip until I bled.

Eventually, the knife finally gave and I was free.

Just as a dark cloud formed at the end of the hallway.

'Fuck!' I bunched the dress up in my right hand and tore down the hallway, the gaping hole in my left hand forgotten for the moment.

The voices grew closer and closer, but I kept running, hoping it was just go away or fly past me.

But, my hopes were dashed once again as I was suddenly yanked up into the air and was face-to-face with The Walrider.

It had no eyes but I could tell it was inspecting me.

Like a predator inspecting its prey.

"Please." I whimpered, its grip like tiny spiders crawling over my body. "Let me go."

The Walrider did nothing, just continued to inspect me.

Then…it did let me go, but not in the way I wanted it to.

As I crashed through the window and plummeted towards the ground, all I could think of was "This is better than dying by 'The Groom's' hand."

**A/N: This chapter was originally A LOT more graphic, but I toned it down because it hurt me to do this to Young-ja. To be honest, the only thing that kept me going during this chapter was the thought of Miles bursting through the door and kicking Eddie's ass. Please, look at the beautiful picture ASMxHF drew for me! I HAD it was the cover page for my profile and this story, but this stupid site won't show it. Ugh. **


	31. In Memory

**A/N: To those who review every chapter, those who review when they can, and those who read this fanfic, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are all so wonderful. I never thought I'd get this far, but your wonderful reviews and support have really helped me along. **

**Thank you so much. **

_I never expected this to happen._

_Well, maybe one day, but not so soon._

_Not now._

_Groaning, I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face on top of them, wishing I could vaporize into thin air. _

'_What is he going to say? We never discussed this. I mean, we can barely support __**ourselves**__ at times, so how could we possibly support a…..Oh God, please don't let him come home early!'_

_And right on cue, I heard the apartment door open with a bang._

"_Your sexy fiancé is home, Cara Mia!" Miles called out slamming the door behind him, a vexing habit of his. "And I brought Burger King!"_

"_Coming!" I responded, trying to soothe the pounding in my chest before rising to my feet. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, hoping the puffiness in my eyes had faded away. If I came out all red-eyed and puffy face, Miles would have a hernia._

"_Hurry up, Short Stack! The fries are getting cold!"_

"_Hold on! I'm coming!"_

_Taking a VERY deep breath, I nodded to my reflection before exiting the bathroom, hands behind my back._

"_Miles?" I leaned against the entrance to the miniscule kitchen/dining/living room, sweat clinging to my shirt and my hair standing on end. _

"_Mmph?" He turned around, mouth stuffed with French fries. "Wuf is eh?"_

_Deciding it was now or never, I stepped forward and showed him the stick in my hand._

"_I'm pregnant."_

_In response, Miles just stared at me, still hunched over the table with mounds of fries in his grip and mouth._

_Then, one by one, the fries fell out his mouth and plopped onto the table as his eyes grew wider and wider._

"_Um, Miles?"_

_*Plop*_

"_Miles? Are you-?"_

_*Plop* *Plop*_

"_Mi-?"_

_*PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP*_

'_Oh shit, I broke him.'_

"_Miles?! Are you alright?! I know this is really sudden bu-."_

"_You're….pregnant?"_

"_..Yeah. I'm pregnant."_

"_We're….having a kid?"_

_It never failed to amuse me how slow witted Miles become when he was in shock._

_It also never failed to piss me off!_

"_Yes, you twit!" I snapped, wringing the pregnancy test in my hands. "I noticed I was three weeks late for my last period, so I went out and bought this. And the test come out positive."_

"…_..Holy shit." Miles whispered, ogling at me with huge eyes. "My..my.."_

"_**My**__…?" I repeated, not knowing what to make of his reaction. _

"_My Short Stack is cream filled now!" He cackled. "You're going to be all puffy like ones in the commercials!"_

"_OH YOU IDIOT!" I marched over and decked him in the arm. "Be serious, Miles! What are we going to do?! We aren't financially stable enough to support a baby, and the wedding is only a month away and all of our money is going to a new house, and what will our parents say-OH GOD, what will my parents say?! As far they are concerned, we sleep in separate rooms and-."_

_Miles placed his pointer finger on my lips, instantly silencing my rambles._

"_Young-ja," He started, a serious look now on his face. "It's fine."_

"_**What do you mean it's fine?!"**__ I roughly pushed his hand away. "We never even talked about having kids! How can we raise a child when we haven't planned anything?!"_

"_Has anything that's happened to us ever been planned though? Our friendship, our relationship, our engagement, they all happened on their own. Even when we tried to plan it out, it never happened the way we thought it would." He pulled me into his arms and rested his forehead against mine. "This is just the next milestone in our life, Young-ja. We get hitched next month, you pop the kid out nine months later, and we all live happily ever after."_

"_Miles," I groaned, lightly banging my fist against his clavicle. "It is not that sim-__**Wait, you want to have this baby**__?"_

"_Well, yeah," He rubbed the back of his neck, a small blush on his cheeks. "In truth, I thought it would be just the two of us for a while, but I always fancied the thought of a house full of mini-Short Stacks gnawing at my ankles one day."_

"_Really?" I gasped, feeling like a huge weight was being lifted from my shoulders. Never mind the fact that he basically referred to our future children as raccoons. _

"_Really." He kissed me gently, asking the next question with his lips still on mine. "What about you?"_

"_To be honest, I also thought we'd have a year or two to ourselves. But, after saving up some money and planning things out, yes, I wanted to start having children."_

"_Then don't have an ulcer over this. Fine, the kid is coming earlier than expected, but I'm pretty fucking thrilled right now. I know my parents will be over the moon, and I'm sure your parents will be happy in their own way." Miles smiled, kissing me once more. "But….the most important question is, do you want to have __**this**__ child?"_

_Like I said before, I barely gave much thought to raising a child because I thought that was further down the road. But now, here in my fiancé's arms and carrying our child, I really considered the possibility. Pregnancy is no pleasure cruise with all the aches, cravings, and hormone imbalances that comes with the package, but I would have Miles next to me all the while. _

_And that was enough to bring a smile to my face._

"_Yes. Yes, I want to have our baby. Just….just promise me you'll love me even when I turn into an aircraft carrier."_

"_You could be the size of a fucking dirigible, and I would still love you to the moon and back." He smirked before placing a warm, gentle hand on my abdomen. "And I promise to take care of you-both of you. Whether you are a he, she, or they, I will love you too. And I will come up with a kickass nickname for you, so look forward to that."_

"_Will it be a breakfast related nickname?"_

"_Of course, my double stuffed Short Stack."_

"_Rude." I snorted, drawing him close and sighing blissfully, overjoyed my worries were for naught._

"_Hey," He whispered, his mouth next to my ear. "do you think I'll be a decent dad? I mean, I'm not as responsible or gentle as you are."_

"_What are you talking about?" I chuckled, flicking my finger down his nose. "You are the sweetest man I know who has an endless amount of love, courage, and rectitude. Every day is a wonderful one when I'm with you, and for the past decade, you've made me the happiest woman on Earth. So I know you'll do the same for our baby."_

"_I can only hope so."_

"_Don't worry." I teased, consoling __**him**__ now. "We are in this together remember? For better and for worse."_

_Miles chuckled and nodded, bring my left hand up to his lips and kissing my engagement ring._

"_For better and for worse. Til death do us part."_

* * *

(Father Martin)

I heard a loud crash from that building the demon was in.

The man committed horrible sins against the innocent, and I could only pray Our Lord, The Walrider, would deliver his truth to that creature and rid the Earth of his foul presence.

But, for now, something beckoned me towards where crash was heard. As a prophet, I must go where my Lord orders me to.

Using a flashlight one of the follower's gave to me, my eyes scanned over the Vocational Block wall until they landed on a broken window on the fourth floor.

"What could've happened here?" I lowered the light towards the ground, hoping to find whatever caused the window to be in such a state.

And, in the distance, I could see a stain of white amongst the tall grass.

Moving closer, I felt the air leave my lungs as I beheld the sight before me.

A woman in all white lay before me, her long hair spread around her like a halo and blood staining her face.

And-God be praised!- she had the stigmata on her right hand, like Christ did during his Crucifixion.

"An angel!" I gasped, falling to my knees against her fallen form and placing my ear next to her lips. "And she lives! Her breath is but a faint flutter but it is there! Merciful God, you've been kind to me on this night! Praised be your name, for you have blessed me with an apostle **and** a guardian angel!"

Quickly, I gather her into my arms and stood up, minding the gaping wound on her head.

"Be at ease, my child. I shall bring you to a sanctuary where you can rest and prepare yourself for tonight's revelation. There is much work to be done." I whispered to her, scurrying back towards the Chapel. "So much to be done."


	32. Transformation

**A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful messages and support. And thank you, KitKat and Jocie416, for your beautiful reviews. I actually cried and jumped around when I read them. And I'm sorry for ruining "Once Upon a Dream". Hahaha.**

**Thank you very much again. Please enjoy. And thank you again to ASMxHF for creating beautiful artwork for this fanfic.**

_Morti Irrequieti Somnum Reperirat, _

_Et Lux Memorandi Nostri Eum. _

_Porteat Ad Pacem Aeternam_

As I slowly regained consciousness, I could hear someone singing in the distance. Their voice echoed off the walls, and for a brief moment, I thought I was dead.

But the searing pain ripping through my body proved that I was, indeed, still alive.

Alive and definitely not outside anymore.

With a light groan, I slowly opened my eyes to see the inside of a steeple floating above me. The room I was laying in was completely dark, save for the glow of the candles scattered around. In the distance, I could barely make out a dirty stained glass window, meaning that I was in some type of chapel. I tried to turn my head and investigate further, but every time I dared to turn my head, a tearing pain shot through my skull and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.

So, I just laid there and stared holes into the ceiling as everything slow came back to me.

Looking for Miles, losing Waylon, getting caught by 'The Groom', then him tying me down on that table and….

I squeezed my eyes shut, my wish for someone to burn off my skin resurfacing. Maybe I could roll myself onto one of the candles and set myself on fire. Then I could no longer feel his fingers caressing my body like I was some toy.

But I didn't.

Instead, I silently sat up and stared down at my body.

My arms and chest were covered in cuts and bruises…some of them from that thing biting me. I leaned over and lifted up my dress with my left hand and saw several more cuts and hickeys scattered up my legs and thighs, along with red teeth marks. Then, I placed my left hand on the back of my head and winced when the piece of glass embedded in my skull nicked my fingers.

Finally, I peeked down at my right hand which was resting limply at my side.

A hideous, x-shaped scar stared back at me, and I could see the floor peeking through parts of the torn flesh. My fingers were also stark white.

Lifeless, flaccid, dead.

"Move." I whispered, willing my fingers to bend, twitch, anything.

Nothing happened.

"Move." I tried again.

Not even a single twitch.

"Move." My voice broke. "Move. Move! Move! MOVE! MOVE!"

Livid, I snatched a candle off the ground and shoved it against my dead right hand, wanting—needing to feel something.

But, there was nothing, just the smell of burning flesh beginning to fill the air.

And, in my frenzy, I didn't notice the singing had halted to a stop.

"….Move." I whimpered, tears flowing down my cheeks and burning the cuts as they soaked into them. "Please….move."

"**What are you doing?!"** The candle was snatched out of my grip and my burning hand was smothered with a wet cloth.

With a blank expression, I stared at the person who dared to disturb me and saw that priest from the hallway mumbling prayers under his breath and extinguishing the flame on my hand.

"Are you the one who brought me here?" My voice was hoarse and like sandpaper against my larynx.

"I found you unconscious outside that demon's layer." He responded, the fire now out. "Thank the Heavens, your stigmata is still visible."

"My….stigmata?"

"Yes, my child." The 'priest' smiled, holding my smoking hand to his chest. "Don't deny your destiny. You have been chosen-."

"**Get your fucking hands off of me**." I whipped my arm away, the idea of any man touching me right now made me sick to my stomach. "All of you are fucking insane. You, 'The Groom', all of the patients condemned to this shithole, and Murkoff—**especially Murkoff**! Mutilating human beings, ripping them apart from the inside, and using nutcases as a host for some **fucking entity** that-!"

"**Silence!**" He slammed his fists on the wooden floor, rattling the candles around us. "You do not know what you speak of! The Walrider is our God, our Savior! And he recused you from the Demon, so you could serve your purpose!"

"**My purpose**?! **The Walrider, your 'God', is the one who threw me out the damn window! I have no purpose here except to find my husband and bring him home! So, I will ask you once again! WHERE. IS. MY. HUSBAND?!"**

The 'priest' was taken aback for a moment before bowing his head to the ground.

"I….beg your absolution, my child. I have just realized where I've seen your face. You were the woman in the arms of that man."

"_**Yes**_, now, where is he?" I was ready to burn his face off if he lied to me again. "I know you are the one who took him."

"Once again, I beg your absolution, but like I said before, I do not kno-."

"_**My husband**_," I practically spat on his hideous, decaying face, "is the one you call your _**Apostle**_. Ring any bells?!"

It was like a lightbulb had gone off in his graying, airbag of a head, and suddenly, his clammy hands were digging into my shoulders and I couldn't pull away.

"God be praised! You truly are the Solar Angel!" Then he began shaking me back and forth like a rag doll. "This is your purpose! You must guide the Apostle towards the truth for you are the medium between the Walrider and the human race!"

"…A…what? I'm a…solar..angel?"

"Quite a shock, isn't it?" He chuckled, like we were fucking chums sharing jokes on our coffee break. "The Apostle was also dubious, but he will come to accept it soon. Like my sons and I already have."

This man was insane. Completely and utterly insane.

But…nothing was sane in this place.

Not anymore.

So what other choice did I have?

I pried his claws off of me and staggered to my feet.

"What is your name?"

"I am Father Martin Archimbaud."

"Well then, Father Martin Archimbaud," I snatched the wet cloth from his grip and wrapped it around my grotesque right hand. "What must I do to help my husband?"

"Excellent. You are coming to accept your fate, my child!" He practically shot to his feet in euphoria. "As a Solar Angel, it is your duty to help my Apostle see the truth, so he can spread the gospel. Thus, you must shed your mortal body and be at your true form." He then took my bandaged hand in his. "Your transformation has already started."

I sneered at him before snatching my hand away and walking off the altar we were standing on.

"Just tell me where I can find my husband."

**A/N: A Solar Angel isn't something I pulled out of my ass. Apparently, Solar Angels were said to come to Earth to help someone seek pure thought. In order to do this, the angel would become mortal and form an attachment with the person they are a 'guardian' or guide of. Basically, they bridge the gap between the mortal and immortal world. That is why Father Martin calls her that since he believe her marriage to Miles is part of that attachment. The things you find on religion websites. Interesting information. Another thing, this chapter shows how the asylum has affected Young-ja. She has tried to be hopeful, but Eddie's assault was her breaking point. That and losing the use of her right hand. The bites on her body were originally part of the more graphic part of Chapter 30, but I decided to gloss over it since I was afraid describing it might bother some of the readers. So, I settled for mentioning it here. And kudos to the person who messaged me about the parallel between Miles' and Young-ja's meeting with Father Martin. Both were thrown out a window and found by Father Martin. And the song in the beginning is called "London Hymn" by Josh Groban. Please listen to it. I listened to it while typing this chapter. **


	33. Annoucement

**A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and support! I'm sorry for the wait. School has started back up, so I don't have as much time to write on the weekdays, but I shall continue to do my best in updating often. **

**This is a short chapter and not extremely important, but I figured I could squeeze this in before the next chapter, which is fairly longer and has more important info.**

**Welcome any new readers! Enjoy!**

(On the outskirts of Denver)

"**Denver Police Department**."

"Yes, Hello. My name is Roseanne Johnson, and I would like to file a missing person's report."

"**I see**." A rustle of paper could be heard followed by a click of a pen. "**Alright. Please give me the names of the missing parties and time you last saw them**. **And please describe your relationship to the missing parties**."

"It is for my neighbors down the road, Miles and Young-ja Upshur. And I last saw Mrs. Upshur roughly seven hours ago when she dropped their daughter off here. She told me she was going to find her husband and would be back soon. I assume he'd already been missing for an hour at that point."

"**I see**." The scratching of pen against paper had ceased. "**And you said Mrs. Upshur was last seen seven hours ago, correct?**"

"Yes."

"**Mrs. Johnson**," The voice on the other side sighed. "**I cannot file this report until after 24 hours have passed. From what you say, Mrs. Upshur was last seen around 11 pm last night, and Mr. Upshur around 10 pm. It is six in the morning right now. Both of them are probably resting at a hotel before coming back.**"

I tightened my grip on the phone, not liking the officer's tone.

"Young-ja said she would be back with Miles and would take their daughter home the minute she found him. I repeat, the minute she found him."

"**Now**,-"

"Hush, boy!" I snapped, disgusted by this punk's lack of concern. "You don't know a thing about them! They love their daughter more than anything and wouldn't waste a second in coming back for her! That Upshur boy may have a 'few' screws loose, going on all those ridiculous missions and making his poor wife fetch him in the dead of night, but he loves his girls! And Young-ja, God bless her soul, would do anything for her child and her husband. Now, _sonny_, I want you to send out a damn search party for them because they would not leave their baby alone for this long without a single fucking call!"

The officer was silent for a moment, probably not expecting an elderly woman to scream his ear off first thing in the morning, before composing himself and responding.

"**W-well, ma'am, I'm sure they are wonderful parents like you say, but I can't do anything until 24 hours have passed. I'm sorry, but those are the rules**."

"Forget the rules!" I could see Ae-cha peering around the corner, still in her pajamas with bags under her eyes. "Please, I beg of you, their daughter is only two years old and hasn't slept at all. I'm not asking for an army, just a few officers."

"**Ma'am**," The officer sighed again. "**Believe it or not, the police station is a very busy place, and we cannot waste any manpower on searching for two people who may or may not be on their way to you right now."**

"But…" Ae-cha pattered over from her perch and wrapped her tiny arms around my knee, staring up at me with her mother's eyes.

"**I'll tell you what**," The officer started, the sound of papers rustling again. "**If you haven't heard anything by this evening, I'll send an entire rescue squad on case. Alright?**"

"….Alright." I whispered, my hear cracking when Ae-cha's tiny hands began to shake once more. "Thank you for your time, officer."

With a heavy heart, I hung up the phone before taking the poor dear into my arms with a fake smile.

"Why don't I make you some breakfa-?"

"Liar."

Her whispered accusation stopped me into my tracks, and I slowly turned towards her.

"…What?"

"You lied. You say Mommy and Daddy here when I wake up." Her big brown eyes began to water and her lips began to tremble. "Where are Mommy and Daddy?! Why you lie?!" Her tiny fists beat against my shoulders, and the dried tears on her face were soon replaced with new ones. "You are liar! Mommy is liar! Daddy is liar! No one cares about Ae-cha! No one!"

"No, no, sweetheart!" I quickly took her fists into mine and let her sob on my shoulder. "I'm sure they have a good reason for being gone for so long, but your mommy and daddy love you more than life itself. They **will** be back, just like they promised." Her face was red and covered in snot, which was being rubbed against my nightgown like a rag. "So, please be patient for a while longer. Alright?"

Ae-cha didn't say anything, just gestured for me to put her down.

Once her bare feet were on cold wooden floor, she picked up Annie who was sleeping on the sofa nearby and scrambled away, whispering the word 'Liar' once more.

'Dear God, what is taking you two so long?!" I braced myself against the kitchen island and felt my hope slowly diminish with every passing second. 'Please don't tell me Miles' recklessness finally caught up with him, and Young-ja got dragged into it. …..But, something **has to be** wrong. Otherwise, I would've received a phone call long ago.'

I began pacing the kitchen, racking my brain for anything I could do to help them.

'If the police aren't going to be of assistance, I'll have to find someone who can.'

"But who?" I mumbled, peeking at the clock every once in a while, silently praying for an idea to blossom in my brain.

Finally, a lightbulb went off in my head and I scrambled to the vanity in my room.

"Where is it?" I dug through the drawers frantically until I found the piece of paper Young-ja gave to me the first time I babysat Ae-cha. "Ah-ha!"

"If anything were happen to Miles and me," She told me, placing this paper in my grasp like it was a national treasure. "Call these numbers. They will know what to do."

It was a piece of stationary with two numbers and their owner's names printed neatly in Young-ja's handwriting.

"I hope I remember how to do this," I hurried back to the phone and pressed the button for a 3-way call before dialing the numbers, mumbling 'Please work, please work' under my breath as the phone rang.

However, it seems luck was on my side once again because the first number answered after two rings, and the second answered after five rings.

"Hello?" A female voice answered.

"_Yeobosaeyo_?" A male voice answered.

"Ah!" I fumbled with the receiver, almost dropping in the process. "Is this the Upshur and Park residence?"

"It is."

"…_Yes, may I ask who is calling_?"

My palms began to sweat rivers, but I pressed forward.

"My name is Roseanne Johnson. I am the babysitter for Miles and Young-ja's daughter, Ae-cha."

"Has something happened to them?!" The woman, whom I guessed was Miles' mother, demanded in a high pitched tone.

"_Are they alright?_" The man-Young-ja's father?-asked in a flat tone, but I could trace the hint of fear in it. "_Please, tell us what has happened_."

I took a deep breath, not liking what I was about to say but seeing no other route to go.

"Ae-cha is with me, but….Miles and Young-ja have been missing since late last night, and…..I'm afraid something terrible has happened to them."

**A/N: Oh no, Ae-cha is losing hope! And now, the parents know something has happened! That is one of the things that I thought about when playing Outlast. I always wondered, "What would Miles' parents think of this?" We will hear more of the parents soon, but I figured that they should know, considering their granddaughter is waiting for her parents and they have been missing for quite a while. And~little side note here, I really enjoy calling Young-ja "Mrs. Upshur". It makes me all tingly inside. Haha. The next chapter will be longer and more plot filled!**


	34. Bleeding Hearts

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support! Please enjoy this chapter! And welcome any new readers!**

"_Comfy?" A voice sighed from behind me as a kiss was placed on my cheek._

_I smiled and crane my neck around to see Miles leaning against the back of the couch, his head resting on his arms._

"_As comfortable as I can be." I laughed, placing my crochet hook and yarn down to take his face in my hands and kiss him back. "How is the case going? I thought you'd be home later."_

"_It __**is**__ later." He pointed to the grandfather clock across the room. "And I vaguely recall asking you NOT to wait up for me." _

"_Tell that to the cream filling." I pointed to my 8-month baby bump. "She's been restless since you left this morning. And besides, I don't like sleeping next to an empty space. It's you or nothing."_

"_You double stuffed dork." Miles chuckled, hopping over the back of the couch and plopping himself next to me. "And as for you," He placed his hands on my baby bump. "Don't cause problems for your mommy or I'm taking all the toys I bought for you back to the store. Got it?"_

_He was greeted with two firm kicks._

"_Glad we understand each other, Cheerio."_

"_Cheerio?" I snorted as he started rubbing the baby bump, like he was trying to soothe our daughter-to be._

"_Yeah, like Honey Nut Cheerios." He grinned, his eyes giving off that 'Upshur' gleam. "I love Short Stacks AND Honey Nut Cheerios, so it is only fitting."_

"_Dork." I shook my head and continued my crocheting as Miles hummed to our Cheerio. _

_A waltz when she walks in the room_

_She pulls back the hair from her face_

_She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight_

_Even her shadow has grace_

"_So She Dances" was always one of my favorite songs to listen to and play, and ever since Miles found out, he sings it once in a while._

_Just for Cheerio and me._

_I still can remember the day the doctor told us we were having a girl. _

_Miles stared holes into the ultrasound before doing cartwheels in the waiting room and shouting "We're having a daughter! Fuck yeah!' on the intercom._

_Then he raced back to the examination room to help me off the bed while I laughed my ass off at the doctor's face._

_Another wonderful memory thanks to my ridiculous husband._

"_What are you doing anyways?" Miles asked, the lullaby now over and his head on my shoulder._

"_I'm crocheting a hat for Cheerio." I smiled to myself, a small blush growing across my cheeks. "I read in a maternity magazine that babies form stronger attachments with their mothers if they make their first pair of clothes."_

"_That is sweet and all, Short Stack. But," He snatched the bundle of yarn from my hand. "Do you plan on giving birth to a freaking Polly Pocket?"_

"_Hey!" I whipped it out of his mitts and deck him on the arm. "I'm doing my best! Besides, so what if it is a little small?! She will be able to feel all the love I put into making it."_

"_Face it, my love." Miles plucked the hat-in-making out my grasp once more. "You weren't a craftswoman when we first met, and you sure as hell aren't one now."_

"…_Thanks a lot," I mumbled, laying my head back in defeat as tears prickled at my eyes. "Those three hours of poking myself were for nothing then?"_

_Miles averted his eyes with red cheeks, realizing how tactless his comment was. _

"_Hey, I'm s-."_

"_It's nothing." I quickly sat up straight and rubbed the tears away before he could see them. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. My hormones are acting up, that's all. No biggie."_

"_Young-ja."_

"_Well, we should get to bed now." I braced myself against the side of the couch and lifted myself up and on my feet with a light groan. "You got more work tomorrow with your client, and I have another day of screwing up the simplest things."_

"_Young-ja"_

_Miles reached out to grab my hand, but I snatched it away, feeling the tears come back._

"_Miles! I told you I'm not angry. Let's just go to bed and forge-!"_

"_Young-ja!" He shot his feet, silencing me instantly. "I'm sorry. That was stupid of me to say. You wanted to make something for our baby because you love her, and I had not right to shoot you down like that."_

_His apology touched me, but his mindless jab still stung._

"_Miles," I sighed. "Forget it. I know you are stressed with this illegal fracking incident and-."_

"_Don't make excuses for me!" He snapped, running his hand through his hair frustrated. "Even if things are difficult, I would never take them out on you. I said something stupid because I'm a freaking idiot, and you didn't deserve to have your hard work thrown aside like that."_

"_Miles."_

"_And I know our baby will love it to pieces simply because her mommy made it for her."_

"_Miles."_

"_So, please don-."_

"_Miles!" I laughed, placing my pointer finger against his lips to shut him up. "Calm down. It is fine, honestly. So don't have a cow, you dork!"_

"_But…" He trailed off when I wrapped my arms his waist, trying to get as close as possible._

"_Your apology is really sweet, and I know you didn't mean it. You sometimes say tactless things, but that is part of what makes you __**my**__ Miles." I got on my tippy toes and kissed him. "So, don't worry. I'll keep trying until I can make something worthy of our baby, alright?"_

"_You're too kind, Young-ja." He leaned his forehead against mine, his arms tight around me. "But, thank you. And, when I came home tomorrow, I'll help you knit the hat."_

"_It is crochet, Miles."_

"_Whatever."_

_I laughed and leaned into his warm embrace._

"_It is nice to be with you like this. Lately, you've been out more and more; sometimes you don't even come home until early in the morning."_

"…_.It gets lonely, doesn't it." The question was presented as a statement._

"…_..Sometimes. I mean, the neighbor lady checks in every once in a while, but…"_

_Miles was silent for a moment before he sighed and buried his face into my hair._

"_I'll take the next few days off. That Reiner guy will understand."_

"_No." I pulled away from him and looked him straight in the eye. "You've been working too hard to bring that fracking company to justice. Don't jeopardize all your hard work because your wife is a little lonely."_

"_But isn't that reason enough?" He sighed, pulling me back. "Your needs come first. Even if you weren't pregnant, I would still ditch work if it made you happy."_

_See, it was times like this, times when Miles let that bleeding heart of his show that made me fall in love with him all over again._

"_Just hurry up and finish this case, so we really can be together."_

"_I promise." He kissed my forehead. "Until then, I'll find someone to keep you company when I can't."_

"_What, are you getting me a babysitter?"_

"_No," He scoffed. "I'm thinking of something more on the lines of a…companion."_

"_A companion? What are thinking?"_

"…_Tell you what. Let's go to bed, and when I come home tomorrow, I'll also bring your new BFF home too."_

"_Pfft. Fine."_

_Satisfied, Miles began leading me towards the stairway when I remembered something._

"_Wait!" I scurried towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a large tray. "There is another reason I stayed up."_

"_Oh, for what?"_

"_It is midnight, Miles." I smiled and held up a homemade chocolate cake with blueberries and a frosted drawing of the two of us with a big heart. "Happy Birthday, mi amor."_

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" I asked one of Father Martin's disciples as he led me down the hallway like a dog, using the train of the wedding dress as a leash.

"To…find…truth…Father Martin….said I…am to be…your servant…it..is..a great honor." The man replied slowly, as if talking physically hurt him. It was probably a result of the scars engrained into his neck. He also walked with a limp and every time I caught up to him, he would scurry ahead like I was made of battery acid.

Realizing I wasn't going to get any more out of my 'servant', I thought back on what Father Martin said to me.

"_My child!" Father Martin scampered after me as I hopped off the altar, the smell of burning flesh still lingering in the air. "You mustn't go to the Disciple yet! You have to obtain revelation first, so you can properly serve your purpose."_

_Pissed off, I whipped around and stuck my finger in his wrinkly face._

"_I know my purpose! It is to find my husband, and you are going to tell me where the hell he is!"_

"_Patience, my child." He cooed, as if my threats didn't faze him. "There is plenty of time for that once you gain revelation. Besides," He then gestured to my dead right hand. "how will you guide the Apostle while the Walrider has claimed your hand for his own?"_

"_The Walrider didn't do this! It was that piece of shi-!"_

"_So innocent still." Father Martin sighed, like I was some temperamental child. "Not to worry though. Once you shed your mortal form, everything will become clear."_

_I glared holes into his skull, tired of his religious bullshit and obsession with the Walrider._

_Swallowing the insults on my tongue, I took a deep breath and asked him where I could seek revelation._

_His face became as bright as a Sun Maid raisin before he fell to his knees and began praying loudly._

_As Father Martin mumbled gibberish to himself, I closed my eyes and wondered what the hell was in store for me next._

_Out of habit, I gazed down at my wedding and engagement bands for a morale boost._

_Only to find them missing from my blood encrusted hand._

"_Where are they?!" I screamed, racing back to the altar, practically flipping it over. "Where are my rings?!"_

"_I have to make sure you don't try to fly away." Father Martin's calm voice spoke up, and I whipped around to find him holding my rings in his wrinkly grip._

"_Give them back, you fucking nutcase!" My vision was red as I reached towards his pathetic form, ready to beat him into a bloody pulp._

"_Seek revelation first!" He then slipped them onto his fingers. "Complete your mission, then you saw receive the Disciple's tokens once more."_

_Clenching my fist until my nails drew blood, I leered at the bastard for a moment before nodding stiffly. _

"_You better keep your fucking word, old man."_

"Does…it..hurt?" The man's whispers snapped me out of my daze and I asked him to repeat himself.

"Does…your…blessing…hurt?" He pointed to my right hand.

"No, it doesn't." I raised my arm up and inspected the hole visible through the bandage. "In fact, I can't feel a damn thing. My mind likes to pretend it's still usable, but it is fucking useless now."

"Maybe…Our Savior…can heal…you…once…your mission…is…complete."

"Doubt it." I scoffed, letting it fall to my side once more like a broken doll. "But who gives a shit anymore?"

The man began to fiddle with the train, thinking of something very intently from how I could almost see gears turning in his head.

Then, suddenly, he released the train and started to tear at his patient uniform.

"H-hey! What are you doing?!" I reached towards him but he flinched away once again.

"I…am.." Half of the jumpsuit's torso was ripped in half, and he had a piece of torn cloth in his hand. "I…am…serving…you."

Then he held out the piece of cloth like an offering.

"Wh….?"

"If…your hand…bothers you…tie..it…back…until…Our…Savior…can heal…you."

"Oh..I see." I felt a small glow in my chest at this act of unexpected kindness. "But…I can't tie the cloth around my arm with one hand. Could do it for me?"

"M-me?" The man jumped back with wide, bloodshot eyes. "I…I…cannot…touch…you."

"And why not?" I stepped forward, only to have him jump back once more.

"Because…you..are divinity and….I…am…dirty."

His words brought me back to that man on the Prison Ward watchtower and something Miles once told me back in our college days.

_"Don't trust them," He whispered, tightening his grip on the metal railing. "They'll tell you it's science but it's not. They were…..waiting for us. In this place. Billy understood. They've always been here. You…can't hide."_

"_People, regardless of their social standing or aliments, don't deserve to be treated like trash, Young-ja. No one should believe they are inferior or aren't worthy of mercy."_

In an instance, I raced forward and wrapped my arm around him, pulling him closed despite his protests.

"N-no! I..will…sully…you!"

"No you won't." I eased up on my grip and looked him straight in the eyes. "There is nothing wrong with you."

Then, in what felt like the first time in an eternity, I smiled.

A genuine, straight from the heart smile.

The man just gaped at me, like he just saw something life changing.

"What is your name?"

"…It is….Fe..lix…"

"Well then, Mr. Felix." I gestured to the rag in his hand. "Will you please assist me?"

Felix stared at me a moment longer before nodding quickly and getting to work.

And before long, my right arm was in a make-shift arm sling.

"Thank you very much, Felix." I leaned over and stroked his blistered cheek. "You are very sweet."

"Y-y-y-you..are..welcome!" He stuttered, lightly touching his cheek for few times before shaking his head. "We must…continue!"

He bunched the train up in his hands once more before scrambling down the hallway while I tried to keep up.

* * *

"An..elevator?" I asked as we stood in front of the elevator shaft overlooking the main lobby. "Are you showing me the way out?"

"You..will..see." Felix pushed the metal gate aside before tugging me into the confined space and closing it once more.

Then, he pulled a golden key out his pocket and inserted it into the slot underneath the button panel. Suddenly, the elevator hummed to life and we began our descent.

It stopped briefly on the main floor, like it was taunting me with the taste of freedom, before continuing downwards.

Wooden walls rapidly faded into metal ones, and our speed kept increasing until I was afraid we would crash.

But we didn't.

Instead, the elevator eased to a halt in front of a metal hallway with a double door at the end.

Felix pulled the metal gate aside and gestured for me to move forward.

"I…cannot..go..any..farther..but I…will..wait here..for..you."

I simply nodded, speechless at this sense of doom the cold walls were giving off.

Taking a step out, I shivered at the sensation of the cool linoleum floor against my bare feet.

'Shit, it is freezing down here.'

Cautiously, I made my way to the double doors and paused for a moment.

'What lies on the other side? Will whatever 'revelation' awaits me drive me insane? Will I find Miles? …Well, only one way to find out.'

And with that I pushed the double door opened and stepped inside.

**A/N: Anyone who knows me or follows my blog for this fanfic knows "So She Dances" by Josh Groban is my favorite love song! It is so romantic! Please listen to it! I like to think it relates to College Miles/Young-ja while Miles was falling in love with her and waiting for the right moment to tell her. And the girl in the song loves music, so there's that~! Lol. Do you guys have any songs you think fit Miles/Young-ja? Please tell me! I'd love to hear! Anyways, Young-ja is in the basement lab now! What will she find? Who knows~!? **


	35. I Spy 2

**A/N: Thank you very much for the lovely reviews! I hope my story continues to please you! This chapter is fairly short, but it has something important. I promise the next chapter will be more fulfilling. I just wanted to get a chapter out since school has been so crazy. I promise to update this weekend though!**

**Please enjoy! And welcome any new readers!**

(Miles)

I was being hunted.

Those twins from before finally caught up with me and, from the looks of it, they were ready to follow through on their promise to eat my liver and heart.

And so, here I am, hanging from a window ledge and praying they won't break through that metal gate and pull me back in.

'Just let me go home. If you truly are a merciful God, get me the fuck out of here and I'll do whatever you want! Just let me see my wife and baby once more!'

My arms began to quiver from hanging for so long, so I quickly strafed myself to the broken window a few yards away.

Before crawling over the ledge, I peeked around the edge of the window to see if the Twins were still there.

My blood chilled when I was greeted with an empty hallway.

'Fuck, I need to hurry!'

With a light grunt, I lifted myself up and over the window, minding the broken glass.

'Yeah, just what I need. I end up escaping the Ninth circle of Hell with a big fucker ripping people's heads off only to die of a damn infection.'

There was a room with a shattered window to my left, the faint hum of a computer drifting from it.

Figuring I could find some supplies, I hopped inside and began to ransack the place.

Unfortunately, there was no genie in a bottle, just a single battery which I guess helps a little.

It actually helps a lot, but they run out of juice so freaking easily!

Sighing, I walked back towards the window until I noticed there was a security desk on the far side of the room.

Some poor dead bastard was splattered on the floor, so I tried to steer clear of him.

The screen flashed footage from various part of the asylum, and I felt my stomach turn at what some of the patients were doing.

"Fucking Hell…" I breathed as some freak started sawing someone's dick off with a handsaw. "I need to get out of here."

I was about to hop back over the ledge when something caught my eye.

In the upper right screen labeled "Laboratory", I could see someone dressed in a ripped white gown walking down an empty hallway.

A **woman** in a ripped white gown.

"But there aren't any female patients here.."

Slowly, I walked back towards the control panel, never taking my eyes off the screen.

I could only see the back of her head, but…for some reason…I felt like I knew her.

Quickly, I typed in the camera's ID number and pushed the zoom in button until the woman's body took up the entire screen.

That wavy, black hair.

Those long fingers.

That…birthmark on her shoulder.

"Oh God no." My body went numb. "Oh fucking God, don't tell me-!"

And at the moment, the woman turned around and I saw my wife's bloodied, bruised face stare straight into the camera.

"FUCK!" I slammed my fists into the metal desk, leaving a huge dent in it. "GODDAMMIT, YOUNG-JA! WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" I crumbled to my knees, fingers digging into my scalp. "PLEASE DON'T' TELL ME CAME TO FIND ME! PLEASE!"

But I knew that was exactly what she did.

I didn't call her and she knew I was going somewhere dangerous.

Of course she would come after me.

"Young-ja.."I whispered, staring at my wife's face. "Oh God…what has happened to you?" I crawled to my feet and reached out towards the screen. "Why is your face covered in blood? Where are you clothes?" I hit my forehead against the screen and weakly beat my fists against the monitors as tears stung my eyes.

"…I…I didn't ask you to come rescue me, you foolish woman." The tears ran free and I pounded against the monitors harder. "Was that…was that baseball bat I kicked aside yours? Oh fuck….Oh fucking God no…."

I couldn't finish my sentence, instead choosing to ram my fist through the adjacent screen and scream my lungs out.

All the clues had been staring me right in the face, but I ignored them.

And as a result, I condemned my wife to Hell.

"GAH!" I punched the wall, ignoring the sharp pain tearing up my arm. "HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?! MY DREAM, THOSE TWINS, THE BAT, WHY DIDN'T I REALIZE IT SOONER?!"

Clutching my bleeding fists to my chest, I stared up at the screen once more with a heavy heart.

"…What kind of husband am I?" I whispered, watching my wife step into a room filled with dead bodies. "Fuck…I..I need to go find her!"

Taking note of the location, I launched myself out of the room and down the hallway, heart pounding my ears.

'I found you, Young-ja! Don't worry, I'm coming to get you!'

* * *

(Young-ja)

I don't know why, but that security camera in the corner of the room kept bothering me.

Figuring it was just paranoia, I shook it off and began investigating the room.

A desk stood in front of me with a Murkoff logo and Walrider Project sign flashing behind it, cracked in various places.

The room was in complete shambles too.

Blood smeared from floor to ceiling and body parts littered around the room like something tore them apart from the inside.

"Walrider.." I whispered, stepping into a puddle of blood. "Waylon was right. The ones who committed suicide were the lucky ones."

There was a computer behind the desk, and it seemed to be in working condition.

I pushed a dead guard out of the chair and sat down, rolling it up to the computer.

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind it if I took your seat, sir."

No reply.

"I didn't think so."

I wiggled the mouse for a moment before a password lock popped up.

"Of course." I sighed, racking my brain for any possible passwords. "Mount Massive? Murkoff?"

Reluctantly, I peeked down at the decapitated body next to me and reached into his pocket for any clues.

"Card key. Gum wrapper. Cigarettes. And…a..card with the word 'ALP' etched onto it."

"ALP" I mumbled, scurrying back to the computer and typing it in.

**Access Granted**

The ALP. A nightmare creature originating in German folklore. It sits on a sleeping person's chest and become heavier until their crushing weight awakes the victim. It drinks blood from the nipples of young men and the breast milk of young milk.

And, it is also known by many names: trud, mar, mart, mahr, schrat.

And, most importantly, Walrider.

The desktop had several folders littered across it, but the one labeled "Research History" caught my eye.

"You sent me down here to seek revelation." I stated, clicking on the folder and scanning the various files. "Then let me receive it."

**A/N: Google the "Nachtmahr" painting. That is the monster the Walrider is based off of. Very creepy stuff!**


	36. Revelation

**A/N: I am so sorry for not updating earlier! Things got really busy, but here is the next chapter! Thank you so much for you awesome reviews and support! I love you guys!**

**Welcome all and any new readers! Please enjoy!**

(Miles)

"Fuck." I panted as I watched Chris Walker rip off some poor bastard's head and brandish it like some kind of trophy.

Or maybe as a warning.

"We have to contain it." He growled as he trudged back in the darkness and the decapitated body crumbled to the ground, blood still spluttering from its neck.

Without taking my eyes off the scene, I dug into my jacket pocket and whipped out my notebook.

_Log 8:_

_I can't shake Chris Walker, the big ugly fucker who likes ripping off peoples' heads. I hear him muttering about security protocols, containment. _

The bastard was spewing the same crap when he was chasing me back in the Main Building, and a lightbulb slowly went off in my brain.

_What if he's not the problem? ...What if he's trying to fix it?_

I came across his file a while back, said he was an ex-military police officer and toured Afghanistan a few times. For a moment, I wondered if I ever came across him when I was there years ago.

Before whatever the hell fucked him up and sent him into this craphole.

Slipping my notebook back into its place, I crawled to my feet and hurried down the hallway.

'Gotta find where the basement. Gotta find Young-ja before someone else does.'

The thought of one of the Variants, as I heard they're called, laying their hands on her made me increase my light jog into a full on sprint.

A dead guard's body was slumped over at the end of the hallway, and I could see a keycard jutting out of his breast pocket.

"Don't mind if I do." I mumbled, plucking it up and racing back down the hallway towards the locked shower room.

'If those documents are correct, I can get back to the Administration Block through the showers and go down the elevator to the Laboratory. I will find Young-ja, call her an idiot for coming after me, then kiss the daylights out of her before getting the fuck out of here.'

Reaching the Showers door, I scanned the card and threw the door open, only to be greeted with a pitch dark room.

'Of fucking course.' I flipped my camcorder's night vision on and proceeded into the room.

The floor was littered with crap and damaged boxes, like the many other rooms I've come across.

A metal gated fence circled the interior of the room, and in the distance, I could make out someone hopping down a hole in the ground.

'That must be my way out then. Hold on, Young-ja. I'm almost there.'

Quickly, I made my way down the dark hallway, the sounds of the storm outside growing louder and louder.

Then, a flash of lighting illuminated the hallway for a second, and at the end of the hallway, I could make out two men wielding machetes.

'Oh fuck me.'

Without thinking, I hopped out the window and found myself hanging off a ledge once more.

The rain immediately soaked me to the bone and the thunder rattled my eardrums, but I could still the two men inside speak up.

"My God, he vanished."

'Abracadabra, dipshit.' I squinted against the hard rain and could make out an open window in the distance.

Slowly, I strafed my way across the ledge, trying to keep a firm grip on the slippery wood.

"Vanished without a trace."

"I detect sarcasm."

"It was my intention."

"He thinks we're assholes."

"Or stupid."

'Maybe both, but if you leave me alone, I'll change my mind.'

"Let's pull him in and slit his belly open."

'…..Assholes.'

Suddenly, my right hand slipped and I gasped as I tried to stabilize myself, thumping against the wall in the process.

"Wait. Just a moment." The voice grew closer to the open window I was hanging in front of.

'Shit! Don't look outside! Don't look outside!'

I waited for the ugly fucker to poke his head outside and drag me in, but nothing happened.

'They must've moved on…at least, I hope they did.'

Figuring it was now or never, I lifted myself up and back inside, finding the hallway completely empty.

I seized the opportunity and hurried down the hallway, kicking the exit door open and slamming it behind me.

Bracing myself against the wall, I clutched my chest and tried to catch my breath.

'God, just let me find Young-ja as soon as possible. Please, just allow me that.'

Once I was breathing normally, I made my way forward, keeping my ears peeled for any other surprise visitors.

When another Security door came into sight, I almost let out a squeal of delight.

**Almost**, mind you.

Busting into the room, my eyes immediately went to the control panel. I inspected the desk and found a button that would open the airlock in the next room.

Figuring it was the next route to take, I slammed my palm on button and the airlock lit up.

And do you know who waltzed it?

Why, it was **Chris. Fucking. Walker.**

"Oh shit." I breathed, backing away as Walker began slamming his fists against the glass panel, the fragile glass cracking with every assault.

'Fuckfuckfuckfuck.' I whipped around and hurried back towards the door.

Only to see an air duct louver hanging from the ceiling on the far side of the room.

Disregarding my original escape plan, I jumped up and climbed my way into the air vent, just as the glass shattered behind me.

Not even bothering to look down, I crawled through the vent until I reached an opening.

I hopped down and found myself back in the hallway.

The security door behind me was rattling at its hinges, and I knew I had to get the hell out there.

Snatching the camcorder up, I flew down the hallway as the door busted open and Walker was on my heels once more.

A loud BANG echoed down the hallway, and the airlock busted into flames, consuming much of the area in front of me.

Thinking back on it, trying to run through the flames was a stupid move, but I had no other choice.

It was that or die by Walker's hand.

Just as I passed the burning airlock, another loud BANG was heard and I was blasted out of the window and into the darkness.

And what do I land on, but a pile of dead bodies.

* * *

(Young-ja)

What I found in that folder was not documents, but videos and pictures.

Images and footage of patients stuffed inside these glass orbs with wires and tubes jammed into their frail bodies like pin cushions.

The time stamps on the photos varied from last night to sixty years ago.

As the clock turned back with each click, the photo quality became grainer and faded, but the contents still made my stomach turn.

Men, women, and children strapped to hospital beds, their eyes forced open with metal probes and boils and large tumors covering their bodies. Even with the lack of color, it was obvious those tumors were horribly discolored and leaking some type of black puss.

June 1943 said the time stamp.

The height of World War II.

I couldn't help but shiver when I realized these were pictures from a Nazi laboratory.

The next file I clicked on was an audio clip labeled "Interview".

It jumped in a few places due to its apparent age, but I still could make out what was said.

"**Exit Interview recorded December 27****th**** 1985 in Los Alamos, New Mexico."** A male voice-a reporter? - declared. "**Clearance Sierra Alpha. Subject Dr. Rudolph Wernicke. 14866."**

"**The films…are real."** Another male voice spoke up, this time with a German accent.

"**There was no altercation with the footage at all? No trickery?"**

"**None."**

"**In June of 1943, you recorded three instances of spontaneous bleeding. A half dozen test subjects began to develop brain tumors."**

'June of 1943.' Same as those photographs. That means…this….this Dr. Wernicke is responsible for that. Could he also be responsible for Project Walrider?

"**Yes. The autopsies revealed that the tumors were pure lead."**

Pure lead?! Jesus Christ…

"**It killed them? Could you explain why the results could not be reproduced in the United States?"**

"**I have my theories. My homeland, in those years. It's impossible to understand the things we felt. What we believed. The overwhelming fear. Ecstatic rage and…..English words are insufficient. More than hope. A human mind in that environment is capable of extraordinary things."**

"**You're saying the experiment needed…"**

"**A proximity to death. To overwhelming madness. Only a test subject who had witnessed enough horror was capable of activating the engine."**

"**Do you believe your test subjects achieved something supernatural?"**

"**No."**

"**Do you think they contacted something supernatural?"**

"**Nothing is supernatural."**

"**Then what was it? You said project WALRIDER was a gateway. A gateway to what?"**

The audio cut off, so I don't know what Wernicke's answer was.

And in truth, I'm not sure I wanted to know.

Waylon's words started to echo in my head.

"_The Walrider. It's what Murkoff has been doing all these insane experiments for._ _To create the perfect host for the greatest weapon ever."_

And so, Murkoff worked with a former Nazi scientist to make this dream a reality?

I heard sick, unimaginable things were happening in Nazi Germany at that time, but this is fucking unbelievable.

Were they going to use the Walrider to win the war?

What does Murkoff gain by doing this?

Why dig up old Nazi experiments now?

Did they believe they could achieve something with modern technology?

Well, if so, Murkoff achieved their goal because the Walrider is running rampant throughout the asylum, killing its creators and possible hosts alike.

But now, that begs the question.

Who is the current host?

Scrolling through the folder, I found the only file with a name on it.

**William Hope**

"Billy…" I breathed, recalling the musings of that patient at the guard tower.

Clicking on the file, the screen quickly became covered with various photos and videos.

The first photo to catch my eye was from when Billy was admitted to the asylum. He was a cute, young man with bright blue eyes, freckles, and messy brown hair.

The next photo was from two months later. Gone were the innocent blue eyes and boyish cuteness. What stared back at me was a deathly pale, bald man with dead, gray eyes and scars engrained into his paper-thin skin.

"You poor boy."

The next thing I clicked on was what looked like an interview. Billy was sitting in-no, he was strapped to a wooden chair with cameras and screen surrounding him.

"**Let me go home." **Billy sobbed, his voice like nails against a chalkboard. **"I want my mommy. She will make it go away…..make the pain go away."**

"**You're not going anywhere, Hope."** One of the people behind the camera butted in, his tone as cold as ice. **"Now, tell me about your dream last night. The one with the tall man in it."**

"**No….tall man…evil…surrounding by buzzing..it never stops…never stops….NEVER STOPS!" **Billy thrashed against his restrains, screaming bloody murder. **"Father! Save me! I know you are there! Stop the burning! STOP IT! SAVE MEEEE!"**

The footage cut off right as a dark cloud seemed to form behind Billy.

"What the hell did they do to you?" I whispered, reaching out and touching the frozen image on the screen. "You were only a child…."

Then, in the distance, I heard something whirl to life.

Rising from my perch, I slowly made my way to the adjacent airlock, the sound growing louder.

The airlock led into another cave-like hallway with marrow scattered across the wall and ceiling.

The whirling sound grew louder, like it was beckoning me, and I complied with its call.

It lead me to a room blocked off with safety glass and on the other side was a man in a wheelchair.

"Hello, Fraulein." He greeted in an airy voice, and I felt my skin prickle.

That voice…

"You're….Dr. Rudolph Wernicke, aren't you?"

"In the flesh…unfortunately." He moved his wheelchair closer to the glass separating us, and I realized the sound I heard was his wheelchair.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead? The Walrider has slaughtered everyone in the basement, so what makes you so special?"

"Because **I am special**….at least, in Billy's eyes." His wheelchair stopped right in front of me, and I could see how transparent his skin was. "He…he thinks of me as his father. The poor idiot."

That insult ticked me off, and I punched the glass wall, not fazing the man a bit.

"I saw the interview clips. He was just a boy! How could you do that to him?! How could you do that to all the patients here AND the ones you tortured back in Germany!?"

Wernicke said nothing, just continued to stare at me with a blank expression.

"Why didn't you leave your research back in Nazi Germany?!" I hissed at him, wishing the glass wall would disappear so I could strangle him with his life support tube. "Why did you let a fucked up company like Murkoff get their hands on your work?!"

No matter what answer he gave me, there would be no sympathy.

Everything Miles, Waylon, the patients, and I went through…was because of this monster.

"Murkoff studied my research extensively and found a workaround to the problems we came across back in the war. The cells in the human body could turn into nano-factories using the their basic function to produce molecules." Wernicke sighed and wheeled over to the Walrider Project logo on his wall. "You probably find our work mad and ludicrous; you'd be right. Using insane men as a catalyst for a god, but it is too late now. The damage has been done."

"So you are just going to sit here and hide?!" I punched the glass once more. "The Walrider is your creation! Can't you stop all of this?!"

"Look at me, child. I'm all but a walking corpse now. I want to die, truly I do, but Billy won't let me."

"But there has to be something!" I leaned against the glass pane, pleading. "Too many people have died for this damn experiment. This needs to end now, Dr. Wernicke."

"The only way to stop this…is to murder Billy."

"What?" I stumbled backwards. "M-murder Billy?"

"The Walrider needs a host to live. Without a living host, The Walrider will vanish." Wernicke returned to his position before me. "Can you do it? Can you undo my mistake and cut off Billy's life support?"

I gaped at him, not believing what I just heard.

"B-But Billy is innocent. He is the way he is because of you and Murkoff! Can't we just separate Billy from The Walrider?!"

"Impossible." Wernicke shook his head. "Billy is no longer human. He is but a shell for The Walrider to inhabit. There is no man to save now. Just a monster."

"I didn't come here to kill someone!" I kicked the glass window, rattling it.

"Then why are you here? What could possibly possess you to willingly enter this place?"

"My husband. He received a call from one of your employees to expose Murkoff's experiments. He never came home, so I'm here to find him."

Wernicke scoffed, shaking his head.

"You've done nothing but damn you both. However, if you cut of Billy's life support, you'll both live. I can guarantee that."

"I..I can't."

"Aren't you angry? Look at yourself." He gestured with his chin to my bloodied, torn dress, useless hand, and overall horrible appearance. "You've seen for yourself the damnation my work has brought onto the people here. So finish it for me, child."

"Bu-."

"Billy is in the Morphogenic Chamber. See for yourself what a sorry state he is in. Perhaps you will change your mind." Wernicke turned away and wheeled back towards his desk. "Just remember, no one can escape while Billy is alive."

I stared at the back of his wheelchair, my mind trying to catch up with my body.

Then, slowly, I backed out of the room and into the hallway.

'The Morphogenic Chamber…'

My body gradually moved down the hallway, like someone else was controlling it.

Like something was pulling me forward.

Down several more hallways and up a flight of stairs, I found myself standing in front of an automatic door with The Walrider Project logo plastered on it.

Taking a step forward, the door hissed and slowly opened, revealing an operating computer room. Even though there wasn't a soul, the computers typed away like there was.

I approached the front desk and peered out the window to see the glass orbs from the photos surrounding a large machine.

And I could see someone inside one of them.

Quietly, I made my way out of the observation room and down the stairs.

And there was Billy, tubes jutting out of his transparent skin and staring mindlessly at the images flashing across the screen in front of him.

"_See for yourself the sorry state he is in. Perhaps you will change your mind."_

"Kill you would be an act of mercy." I slowly approached the orb and rested my left palm and forehead against it. "You're just as much a victim as anyone else, Billy. You are a child…with the power of a god. That is enough to drive anyone crazy. I don't blame you for what you've done, but….I can't let this go on, Billy. So, please, let me ease your pain. You wanted to the pain to go away, right? I'm going to do just that, sweetheart. Then you can be at peace. I promise you that."

I gazed up at his lifeless eyes, not expecting a response.

So, I was surprised when his eyes met mine.

"Bil-?"

Before I could finish, I was lifted up into the air and pinned against the wall.

I screamed and tried to struggle against my invisible assailant, but to no avail.

Then, slowly, a black mass morphed before me and I stared into the hollow eyes of The Walrider once more.

"Oh God no…."

**A/N: Sorry, Miles, it won't be that easy to get to Young-ja. Lol. And I wanted to show the more caring/maternal side of Young-ja still exists. It was Billy calling out for his mother that got her. And Young-ja is unable to kill anyone, despite what she thinks. Please look forward to the next chapter! Thank you very much for reading! **


	37. Mother

**A/N: Thank you so much for you loves and reviews! Especially you, Jocie413. You rock!**

**Welcome all new readers! Please enjoy!**

"B-Billy!" I gasped as The Walrider's dark claws tightened around my neck. "P-Please stop! I just want to help you!"

The Walrider's hollow eyes slanted momentarily before it hurled me towards the ground.

I screamed as my body smacked against the hard ground, blood trickling down my mouth and my vision going hazy.

Despite all of that, I tried to shake it off and scrambled over to the Morphogenic Machine.

Only to be thrown aside and rammed against Billy's sphere.

"W-Wernicke says you're beyond help, Billy." His eyes shot towards mine at the mention of the doctor. "But-!" I gasped, The Walrider shoving me against sphere, like it intended to squash me. "Billy, this is not living! You..-Ah!-..You didn't deserve this! So, please let me help you! Please let me turn off this damn machine and all the nightmares will be over, sweetheart! Trust me!"

Billy stared holes into my face, like he was actually considering what I was saying.

Suddenly, The Walrider disappeared and I slumped against Billy's sphere, air finally returning to my lungs.

"Don't worry, Billy." I smiled weakly. "I'm going to turn off this machine and everything will be alright. Just hold on."

Slowly, I pushed myself away from the sphere and whirled back towards the control panel, hoping this wouldn't be too difficult.

The Walrider wasn't attacking me anymore, so that should save me so-

"_Mom…my…"_

I froze in my tracks as something was whispered into my ear.

'Was that…? Did he just….?'

Gradually, I turned back on my heel and saw Billy glaring at me with livid eyes.

"….Billy? Did you just call me-?" I was launched back and pinned onto the cold ground before I could finish, and The Walrider appeared once more, digging its thick claws into my shoulders.

"No, Billy!" I screamed, struggling with all my might but to no avail. "You need to let me do this! So many people have suffered and…and your father wants you to be free too!"

At the mention of Wernicke, The Walrider snatched my injured right hand from its sling and lifted me up to the ceiling.

"Billy, stop it!"

The Walrider jerked my arm roughly before slamming its other hand over my face, muffling my screams.

Then, The Walrider began wrenching at my arm, causing me to scream bloody murder at the shearing pain.

It pulled harder and harder like it was trying to-.

My eyes snapped open, and my heart fell to my stomach.

**"BILLY! NO!"**

I could feel my bones cracking as the pain grew and grew until-.

**"BILLY!"**

Then, time slowed down.

And I felt nothing.

The Walrider released my face, and I felt the wind flying past me as I fell towards the ground.

And it hovered in the air, watching me plummet to the ground.

With my right arm in its grip.

My consciousness slowly began to fade away, and before I crashed into the floor, I heard that haunting whisper once again.

"_Mom…my…"_

* * *

"_God, Young-ja. She's so tiny." Miles whispered, lying next to me on the hospital bed and taking our newborn daughter's tiny hand in his. _

"_Of course, silly. She __**is**__ a baby." I chuckled, exhausted but happy. After going into labor at three in the morning and having a hysteric Miles drive me to the hospital, here we were two hours later, new parents to a beautiful little girl._

_She had these small tufts of black hair, rosy cheeks, a cute button nose, and was wrapped in a blue blanket. I had her nestled in my arms as she slept soundly with her mommy and daddy watching over her._

"_We…we made this." Miles mumbled, gazing at our daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world._

"_**We did**__, Miles. She is part of __**you**__ and part of __**me**__." I smiled, my heart singing at the goofy grin plastered across my husband's face._

"_Hey there, Cheerio. I'm glad to finally meet you." He leaned over and gently kissed her tiny forehead._

"_You're actually going to call her that? You and your silly nicknames." I giggled. _

"_Speaking of names," Miles spoke up, shifting his positon on the bed so he was holding both of us in his arms. "We never decided on one for her."_

"_I was thinking….__**Ae-cha**__."_

"_Ae-cha?"_

"_Yeah. It means 'love', and she was made from our love, so…." My cheeks flushed under Miles' stare and I averted my eyes. _

_With a happy laugh, Miles leaned forward and kissed me with all his might. _

"_Ae-cha is a wonderful name, cara mia. It really suits her."_

"_You think so?"_

"_I know so," He scooted down and placed his ear next to Ae-cha's mouth. "And I think she agrees too. Of course my Babynese is a tad rusty, but I believe my translation is correct."_

"_You dork." I sighed, my body feeling so heavy all of a sudden. "The doctor will be angry if she finds you lying next to me, y'know."_

"_And your point is?" He snuggled closer to me, stroking Ae-cha's cheek._

"_My point is even if the doctor yells at you, don't go anywhere. I want you next to me—next to us."_

"_As you wish, my love." Miles smirked before kissing both me and Ae-cha on the foreheads, and there we slept in that hospital bed, a new and beautiful family of three._

* * *

_Three months after giving birth to Ae-cha, I finally went back to work at the concert hall while Miles became a stay-at-home dad. _

_At first, he was uneasy about being left alone with the baby, though he will never admit it. However, after showing him the basics of feeding and diaper changing, he got the hang of it pretty quickly. _

_And it is not like I completely abandoned him. Since I preferred to be at home with my family but still needed to put bread on the table, I came in early in the morning so I could be home by noon. There weren't any big performances going on at the time, so I was giving violin lessons to children._

_After a particularly uneventful day, I pulled up to the driveway and kicked the brake on my bike, ready to cuddle with my husband and daughter._

_The house was silent as I closed the door behind me, which was a rarity since Ae-cha's laughter always greeted me._

_Placing my violin in the closet and slipping off my shoes, I headed up the stairs to find them._

_Upon walking into the master bedroom, I had to bite back a squeal at the sight before me. _

_Miles was sprawled out on the bed with Ae-cha snuggled in the curve of his arm. My sweet husband was sound asleep, and my precious daughter had kicked free of her blanket and was shaking her rattle at the ceiling fan._

_Biting my lip, I leaned against the door frame and watched my two favorite people in the world. It was a beautiful scene. Miles stretched out on the bed, dressed in a comfy plain button up and jeans, his thick black hair ruffled with stubble littering his face. A storybook laid face down on the coverlet, one of the many about princesses and their knights. And Ae-cha laid there quietly with her own thoughts, as if she understood she was part of this man's world. _

_Quietly, I made my way towards the bed and settled on the edge, giggling as Ae-cha shook her rattle at me in greeting._

_It was times like this when I wished I was an artist, just so I could capture this moment on paper. _

_Just so the pure beauty and sweetness would never be lost._

_I was tempted to brush the hair on Miles' forehead, but I didn't want to wake him. It was rare to see Miles so vulnerable, without that thick coat of sarcasm and sharp wit coating his face. Seeing him lie there without a care in the world, I remembered just how handsome my husband was. Even back in college, Miles was a looker, but his face was softer, more child-like. Now, there was nothing boyish about the man before me. And, deep down, I felt pretty damn proud. People can look at him all they want—and boy, do they look-, but they will never have him because he is __**my Miles**__. Just like how I'm __**his Young-ja**__. _

_Ae-cha began to fret, and I reached out and picked her up. At the first movement, Miles' eyes opened._

"_Sorry," I whispered, rubbing Ae-cha's back. "I didn't mean to wake you."_

_Miles said nothing, just stared at me with drowsy eyes. Then he raised his hand and curled his index finger, signaling for me to move closer. I did as he asked, and he cupped a hand at the back of my head and drew my lips to his._

"_Welcome home." He mumbled against my lips, nibbling at the bottom one. "We missed you."_

"_I missed you guys too." I sighed, rubbing my nose against his. _

_Then Ae-cha, deciding it was time to eat, began to root at my blouse. _

"_Hungry, little one?" I chuckled, undoing the top two buttons and letting her latch onto my chest. "Was she fussy today?"_

"_Nah, we were just taking a short break." Miles sat up and leaned against the headboard, resting his arms behind his head. "We need to find out if Cinderella goes to ball, right, Cheerio?"_

_I laughed and nuzzled my nose over Ae-cha's forehead before switching her over to my left breast. _

"_You're a wonderful father, Miles. Ae-cha is truly blessed to have someone like you in her life."_

"_Look who's talking." Miles reached out and took a lock of my hair between his fingers, twirling it around. "You wake up at ungodly hours, go to work, come home dead on your feet, and you still make time for Ae-cha. If anyone should win the 'Best Parent of the Year' Award, it should be you."_

_I smiled at his sweet word and patted Ae-cha on the back, causing her to burp softly._

"_Have you already eaten?" I asked while bouncing our baby on my knee. "I can go make us some sandwiches."_

"_Actually, I was planning on eating once you put Ae-cha down for her nap." He smirked, that Upshur gleam in his eye. "You look pretty sexy with your shirt unbuttoned like that."_

"_Miles." I sent him a knowing look. "Be serious."_

"_**I am serious**__." He chuckled. "But, yeah, I haven't eaten yet. Been too busy trying to please this little Cheerio." He plucked Ae-cha off my lap and blew raspberries against her cheek, sending her into a fit of adorable laughter. _

"_Aw," I cooed, scooting next to Miles. "My little baby is __**so cute**__! Even if she poops a lot!"_

_Ae-cha's laughter filled the room once more, and I felt so happy at that moment, I swear my heart was going to burst._

"_Oh, my little Ae-cha." I sighed, leaning against Miles and taking her tiny hand in mine. "I can't wait for the day you start talking."_

"_Yeah, just make sure 'My daddy is freaking awesome' is the first thing you say."_

"_Miles, go back to sleep."_

* * *

_It was four months later when Ae-cha finally said her first word._

_Not a random assortment of babbles._

_**An actual, coherent word**__._

_I was doing the dishes while Ae-cha sat in her baby swing, gnawing on Ms. Bunny's head._

"_After I'm done, Ae-cha," I hummed, placing a bowl on the dish rack, "why don't we go out in the flower field and make some flower crowns."_

_*Bark!*_

"_And of course you can come too, Annie." I chuckled, bending down to pet the adorable Corgi Miles brought home for me as my "new BFF"._

_Once I spoiled her with enough belly rubs and kisses, Annie wiggled out of my lap and pitter-pattered down the hallway and up the stairs, probably to go bother Miles for some loving next._

_Turning back to the sink, I began scrubbing a frying pan when a soft voice spoke up from behind me._

"_Mom…my."_

_Dropping the pan back into the soapy water, I twirled around and stared at Ae-cha, who was still trying to decapitate Ms. Bunny._

"_What…what did you say, sweetheart?"_

"_Mom..my." She smiled, pointing to me. "Mommy!"_

"_HOLY SHIT! MILES!"_

_A loud thunk echoed from upstairs, followed by a barrage of stomping and swearing._

"_WHAT IS IT?!" Miles shouted, flying down the stairs and into the kitchen with Annie hot on his heels. "WHAT IS WRONG?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"_

"_She..she..she.."_

"_SHE WHAT?!"_

"_She said 'Mommy'!" I squealed, lifting Ae-cha out of her swing and twirling around the kitchen while Miles looked like he wanted to strangle me and jump for joy at the same time._

"_What's my name, Ae-cha?" I grinned, poking her nose. "Who am I?"_

"_Mommy!" She giggled, patting her tiny hands against my cheeks. "Mommy! Mommy!"_

"_That's right," I sniffed, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I'm your mommy."_

* * *

(Felix's P.O.V.)

I nearly jumped out of my skin when something was thrown through the double doors.

Peeking over the edge of the elevator door, I found the angel splattered on the ground, her dress soaked with blood.

And..her arm.

OH GOD, HER ARM.

"A-A-Angel!" I raced forward and fell onto my knees next to her body. "N-N-No! Did…Did our Lord..reject her?! O-Oh, the blood..! The blood!" I shoved my hands against the gaping hole in her shoulder, willing the blood to stop pouring out.

But it didn't.

And her body grew paler and paler.

And colder and colder.

"H-H-Help! Father..Martin!" I gathered her up in my arms, not caring that touching a holy being could damn me. "T-The Angel is dying! THE ANGEL IS DYING!"

**A/N: Holy crap. This chapter was a ride from start to finish. And, Jocie413! I have plenty more flashbacks coming! And I'm just going to say this now. It is possible to survive losing your arm, but you need first aid like ASAP.**

**And this was inspired by a conversation with Jocie413. The original draft of "Milestones" was vastly different from the current one. So, I've decided to show how the story has changed from the original development.**

**-This story was originally six chapters long.**

**-Miles and Young-ja never got together, although Miles did have a crush on her.**

**-Young-ja actually had friends, so she and Miles didn't hang out as often.**

**-The Parks actually were nicer parents, while Miles only had his father, whom he didn't get along with. **

**-After graduation, Miles and Young-ja go their separate ways.**

**-Miles moves to Chicago, and Young-ja becomes a voice actress in L.A.**

**-Years later, Young-ja visits Miles for his birthday, and he thanks her for being his friend and wishes they might be together in another life.**

**-A month later, Young-ja turns on the news and hears Miles has gone missing, she then reflects on their past and wishes things were different.**

**Totally different, huh? I changed it simply because Miles already has a shitty time in the game. He should have some happiness. Love you, Miles!**


	38. Awakening 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for the awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**This chapter is a short one and not WAY too important, but I had to do it so the next area could begin.**

**Welcome all and any new readers! Please enjoy!**

I could see a light penetrating through the darkness. Its warmth and beauty beckoned to me, and for the first time in a while, I felt completely safe.

'Am I….**dead?**'

I must be since I'm walking towards a bright light, and it feels like I'm floating.

'So..this means I failed Ae-cha and Miles…' My heart ached at the realization. 'How could I let this ha-AAH!'

My right side of my body burned, and the light grew bright and brighter until it consumed me.

"**AAAHH**!" My eyes shot open to see a rusty steeple above me. "H..Heaven?"

"You've awaken, my child." Father Martin's wrinkly face butted into my line of vision. "I knew you would! The gospel does not end here! No, there is more to do tonight."

I stared at his face for a moment before closing my eyes once more, sighing.

'Nevermind, I'm in Hell still.'

"Felix did a wonderful job leading you to our Lord." Father Martin hummed, wringing out a damp washcloth and dabbing it against my cheek. "Your transformation is almost done, my child. Soon, your mortal shell will fade away, and you shall be holy once more."

He then leaned forward, like he was going to kiss my cheek.

"Get away!" I raised my right arm to swat him away.

At least, I thought I did.

Peeking down, I was greeted with a bloodied slump, wrapped in dirty rags.

And I lost it.

"**AAAAHH! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY ARM?!**" I screamed, flailing against the 'priest's' grip. "**WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!**"

"Our Lord took your arm! It was a test to see if-!"

I spat in his face, everything suddenly coming back to me.

"**BULLSHIT! I ONLY WENT DOWN THERE BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LEAD ME TO MY HUSBAND IF I PLAYED ALONG! BUT LOOK!**" I used my left hand to shove his pathetic face against my stump. "**LOOK AT WHAT THAT THING DID TO ME! MY ARM IS GONE! YET I CAN STILL FEEL IT LIKE SOME FUCKING GHOST LIMB! HOW THE FUCKING HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING WHEN I HAVE ONLY ONE ARM!? ANSWER ME THAT, PADRE!**"

"But you passed the test, my child!" Father Martin stroked my cheek, my blood smeared across my mouth. "You may have lost a limb, but you've received our Lord's blessing and attained greater knowledge! It is all a part of your transformation."

"What blessing?!" I hissed, trying to bite his fingers. "I saw what The Walrider really is, and I told pity on him. So I tried to ease his pain, **but he tried to** **kill me**! How the hell is that **a blessing**?!"

"Because if The Walrider wanted to kill you, he would've. Yet, here you are, injured…but alive. Count your blessing, my child."

I wanted to wipe that smile off his ugly mug, but the shock caught up to me and I shut my eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over me.

"The….Walrider may have spared me," I whispered, my throat suddenly dry. "But if I stay here any longer without medical assistance, **I will die**. I thank you for binding my injury, Father Martin, but it is time for you to uphold your end of the bargain. Give me my wedding rings back and take me to my husband."

"Yes, yes, of course." He pulled the rings off his stubby fingers and slipped them back onto my hand. "Now that you have experience revelation, it is time for you to guide the disciple."

Gently, Father Martin helped me sit up, and I wanted to puke at all the blood caking the right side of my body.

"How am I not already dead….?" I mumbled to myself.

"One of my sons used to work at a hospital. He applied the tourniquet and wrapped you in this blanket. He said to you must lie down, but you have too much to do. No time for rest."

Father Martin lifted me to my feet and ushered my limp body towards the door. My vision started to fade in and out while searing pain engulfed from my phantom limb.

"N-No, wait." I latched onto the door frame, my mind catching up with my body. "I can't go by myself. Where..where is Felix?"

"Felix's purpose was to assist you in revelation. His part is done. Now, you must complete your mission alone."

"Father Martin," I leaned against the door frame, my body starting to tremble. "I…I'm no good to you dead, right? I must reach the Disciple to shed my mortal body, and if my body gives out before then, everything will be ruined. So, please, let Felix guide me. I…I promise to bless all of you when I become divine once more."

I hoped my bullshit excuse would persuade him to let Felix accompany me. Even if the bleeding had stopped for now, it would only be a matter of time before it opened up again and I bleed out. But if Felix was with me, then I might just make it.

God willing, of course.

Luckily, it seemed I said the right thing because Father Martin began to pray vigorously and blessed me for realizing my destiny once more.

"My sons and I thank you for your mercy, my child. Let me go and fetch the boy."

"Please do." I panted, a cold sweat slowly covering my body. "But, before you get him, where must I go to find my husband?"

Father Martin stilled and placed his fingers against his temples, as if he had psychic powers.

Maybe he did.

"I feel…I feel my Disciple's presence near the Male Ward."

"Then the Male Ward is where I shall go. Please fetch Felix for me."

'Miles, I'm almost there! Please, let us get out of this place alive. God, please, **just let us live**.'

**A/N: I told you Young-ja would end up back in the Male Ward. And guess who is in the Male Ward. :D I will try to post the next chapter this week. School is getting really busy though. Ugh. Please look forward to the next chapter. It will be more plot filling and longer! And phantom limbs are nasty business. Feeling pain from a limb that is no longer there. The clock is ticking for Young-ja now. Will she make it out alive? :0 And yes, I did take artistic license regarding Young-ja's ability to survive this long. But it will all catch up with her. And hey, this game has a freaking nano God flying around. I think I can bend the rules of anatomy a tad bit. Haha. And that "Mommy" part from the last chapter will be addressed soon. :D**


	39. The Holes in my Heart

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And I'm so sorry! I forget this chapter needed to be done too! So the NEXT chapter will have Young-ja and Felix in the Male Ward.**

**Welcome all and any new readers! Please enjoy!**

(Miles)

I had no idea how long I'd been running around this fucking sewer.

Just when I think I'm close to an exit, Chris Walker pops out of a freaking wormhole and pursues me until I'm completely lost once again. Maybe that is his plan. He wants to push me further into this godforsaken maze and kill me where no one can hear my screams.

I wouldn't put it past the bastard; he's been after me since the moment I entered the asylum.

However, it seemed I finally lost him….for the moment at least.

Currently, I was taking sanctuary between a pile of rotting crates and a rusty metal gate, trying to catch my breath and warm my freezing limbs. I have been wading in the dirty water for at least an hour, and the cold breeze drifting in from the cracks didn't make it any better.

Falling to my knees, I leaned against the metal gate as exhaustion finally caught up with me.

'God, just let Young-ja be safe. Protect her until I can find her, and let us go home to our baby. **Please, just let us live through this nightmare**.'

My eyes began to droop, and against my better wishes, I felt myself slowly nod off as the sewage water lapped at my knees.

"Please..let me find her," I mumbled, my vision fading out. "I..need to beg her forgiveness again…."

* * *

_I watched Young-ja fidget around our bedroom, re-folding already folded clothes and dusting off the spotless vanity for the sixth time in the past five minutes._

_I had just returned from Ghana, the CDC finally allowing me to come home after three long months away. Since I was containment, I couldn't contact Young-ja and knew the lack of information would torture her. The moment I was released, however, I called her straightway and said I was coming home and would explain everything. Her tone was so blank and lifeless that it made this knot form in my stomach. _

_I thought once I returned home and explained the situation, her tone would change and we would kiss and hug like I hoped for._

_But she didn't._

_As I entered the arrival's lobby of the airport, Ae-cha scampered towards me as fast as her tiny legs would permit, her cheeks rosy and a beautiful smile on her face._

_I dropped my bags and fell to my knees, almost falling back as she launched herself into my arms. Ae-cha cried into my shoulder as she chanted "I miss Daddy!" over and over, and I let a few tears fall myself as I kissed her brow and held her close._

_Annie was the next to bombard me, her stubby legs pawing against my side and her tail about to wag off its hinges. I laughed as the little cinnamon roll butt slobbered across my face, and I rubbed and scratched her chubby belly with vigor._

_Then, I gazed up and beheld my beautiful wife standing in front of me, a lifeless expression on her face. She welcomed me back, gave me a light kiss on the cheek, and led us towards the jeep. _

_I offered to drive, but she just shook her head and told me to rest._

_And the knot in my stomach grew tighter._

_When we arrived back home, I occupied myself with entertaining Ae-cha and Annie, trying to make up for the lost 'Daddy time' while Young-ja made dinner._

_When she called us in for dinner, my heart sung to see she made all of my favorites and I reached out for a hug; Young-ja just patted me on the arm and helped Ae-cha into her high chair. _

_The knot had become impossibly tight. _

_After dinner, it was bedtime for our little girl. We both tucked her in and kissed her goodnight; a second, extra-long one was requested of me for her and Mr. Teddy. I also gave Annie a goodnight kiss as she snuggled next to Ae-cha's crib. _

_Then the two of us retired to our room. I thought, now alone, we could talk properly, but when I reached out to her, Young-ja grabbed her pajamas and went to change in the bathroom._

_With a heavy heart, I changed and sat on the bed, lost in my own thoughts._

_When she re-entered the room, I half expected her to throw a pillow at me and order me to sleep on the couch. _

_So, I was surprised to see her start fidgeting. _

"_Young-ja, are you alright?"_

_She jumped, as if something shocked her and I couldn't help but crack a smile at the familiar sight._

"_Nothing's wrong." She twiddled her thumbs for a moment before flicking the lights off and slipping under the covers, her back facing me. "Goodnight, Miles."_

_I just stared down at her outline in the dark, not knowing whether to scream in anger or cry in agony._

_The younger me would've thrown the sheets off of her and demand to know what the fuck her problem was._

_But not adult me._

_With a crestfallen smile, I lay down next to Young-ja and wrapped my arms tight around her, burying my face against her back._

"_Wh-what?!" She stiffened like a piece of cardboard and tried to wiggle out of my touch. "Let me g-!"_

"_Didn't you miss me at all?" I whispered, my voice muffled against her nightgown. "Not a day didn't go by when I wasn't thinking of you." _

"_Mil-."_

"_Wanting to touch you." I shifted her so she was facing me._

"_Please, st-."_

"_Wanting to kiss you." I placed my lips against her warm neck, noting how her pulse was racing._

"_Miles, st-."_

"_Wanting to love you." I began to kiss down her neck to her shoulder, sliding her dress strap down as I went._

"_**MILES, STOP!**__" _

_Suddenly, I was thrown back and Young-ja scrambled out of bed, her eyes wide with fear._

"_Young-ja?"_

"_For three months, I have slept in this bed!" Her voice was shaking as she pointed to the bed. "And every night I would reach out for you, only to touch an empty space! Then I would clutch my phone and hope that I would get a call or text from you, anything to let me know that you were okay." Her voice began to break and tears streamed down her cheeks._

"_Young-ja." I reached out towards her, but she pushed me away._

"_But I received nothing! Nothing a single call from you or the CDC or anyone! I knew there had to be a reason, but it still killed me inside to not have you here! To reach out for you and touch nothing! To tell a funny joke and receive silence! To watch Ae-cha run towards the door every time she heard a car pass! To rock our crying daughter to sleep every night we heard nothing! To remember all the suffering you told me was going on in Ghana! To believe, as time went on, that you succumbed to whatever godforsaken disease was consuming that place! __**DO YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE THREE MONTHS OF SILENCE DID TO ME?!"**__ She screamed, slamming her fists against the wall, rattling the picture frames. "And then yesterday, my phone finally rings and it's you. 'Young-ja, I'm coming back. I'll explain everything when I get home.' I waited for three months, and that is what I got." Her voice was just a faint whisper now, and she leaned against the window still with a defeated expression. "You weren't the only one longing for a warm touch or gentle whisper. When you called, I should've been thrilled, but I wasn't sure if it was one of the many dreams I had of you returning or not. Then, when you walked up those stairs at the airport with the hideous keychain I made for you back in college swinging from your bag, I realized you really were here. And I felt so happy." Young-ja clutched her chest as she wiped her never-ending tears away. "I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around you and kiss away the holes in my heart. But….but I couldn't. Isn't it stupid?" She scoffed, a condescending smile on her face. "I wished every night for you to come home, but now that you are here, I don't know what to do with you." She then covered her face and slid the floor. "…Because…just before you called, I was beginning to accept the fact that you might be dead."_

_My blood ran cold at her confession along with the temperature of the room._

'_She…She thought I might've __**died**__?"_

"…_You must hate me for acting like this."_

_At those words though, I snapped myself out of it and launched myself off the bed, scooping her trembling form into my arms._

_And this time, she returned the embrace with equal force._

"_**WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO, MILES?!**__" She sobbed loudly, burying her face into my neck. "__**I KNOW IT IS YOUR JOB AND YOU NEVER INTENDED TO BE HELD BACK, BUT WE NEEDED YOU HERE! AE-CHA NEEDED HER FATHER, AND I NEEDED MY HUSBAND! WHERE WERE YOU?! WHERE WAS MY MILES?!**__"_

_Her pleas rattled me to the core, and I could do nothing but hold her close and shed my own tears._

"_I missed you so much…" She whimpered. "So much…Why?...Why did you leave me alone?"_

"_I'm here, Young-ja. I'm so sorry for leaving you, but I'm here! __**I've come back to you.**__" _

_And with that, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her with all my might._

_And she returned it, climbing onto my lap and wrapping her legs around my waist. _

_Then, gently, I stood up and carried her back to bed._

_There, we consummated our love once again, and I never stopped reassuring my love that I was finally home._

_Home to Denver. Home to our baby. Home to her._

* * *

"_Young-ja, are you awake?" I whispered, peering down to find her fast asleep in my arms. _

_Sighing, I kissed her hair lightly and stared at up at the ceiling, lost in my own thoughts._

_I had never see Young-jo so broken before, and knowing my work was the cause of it made me blurt out my deepest fear._

"_Do you….regret marrying me?" _

_I wasn't expecting a response, so I was shocked when I actually received one. _

"_No," Young-ja breathed, tightening her grip on me. "I just…I just want you to be safe."_

"_I'm sorry, my love. It was never my intention to hurt you." I tilted her chin up and kissed her once more. "God, Young-ja, I'm so fucking sorry. I'll find another line of work-."_

"_No." She pulled away suddenly. "You have an important job, and I know you love doing it and I'm proud of what you do. But….just….just don't go where I can't follow. If you do, I'm not going to wait around; I'm going to get you myself."_

"_Are you insane?! Like Hell I would let you get into danger!"_

"_Then don't go anywhere dangerous." Young-ja then held up her pinky finger. "Promise me you won't disappear anymore. Alright?"_

"_I…." My voice caught in my throat and I felt a new knot form in my stomach, yet I still wrapped my pinky around hers and shook it firmly. "I promise."_

**A/N: Wow. Two emotional chapters in a row. I wanted to include Miles' stay in Ghana since I hinted at it in previous chapters and wanted to show how it affected them. And I also used this chapter to somewhat display how Miles has matured since his teen years. He is still a smartass but his soft spot and patience have grown. And the chapter foreshadows what is to come. And the memory arises from the fact that Miles is tormented by that fact that Young-ja made true on her promise to come after him. And that "do you regret marrying me" line almost killed me. Miles believes his job is causing his wife trouble, imagine what he will think when he sees her arm missing. Wow, I'm really evil to my character. :0 Miles' sanity is slowly breaking down, especially with the discovery of his wife in the asylum doing this for him. See you in the next chapter! Look forward to it!**


	40. The Doctor is In

**A/N: Thank you so much for the awesome reviews and love! I hope my story continues to please! And yes, the drama continues!**

**Welcome all and any new readers! Please enjoy!**

(Outskirts of Denver)

(Ms. Johnson's POV)

In a matter of four hours, my simple, quiet bungalow had become a mad house. The moment I informed the Parks and Upshurs their children were missing, they booked the next flight to Denver. Mr. and Mrs. Upshur tore down my door four hours ago, while Mr. and Mrs. Park will probably do the same when their plane lands.

I can see where Miles gets his drive from.

The two of them have been running around my house, calling detectives, the police, whoever, with their son's research spread out on the kitchen table. I guess they went to his house before coming to mine.

While serving them tea and fondant cake, I stole glances at the documents and the word 'Murkoff' caught my eye. I didn't know the huge details, but I knew they are some hot shot company that always seems to be making a killing off something.

Apparently, they are really **BIG HOT SHOTS** since all of the detectives hung up the moment the Upshurs mentioned them. It would've been extremely helpful for Miles to write down where he was going, but all he left behind was a stack of documents for us to piece together.

Well, he **DID** receive an e-mail late last night, but it is locked with some kind of security code; Mr. Upshur is currently trying to unlock it.

After Mrs. Upshur threw my phone at the wall for the 100th time and cursed in Italian, I decided to go check on Ae-cha.

I found her sitting on my porch steps, Annie settled next to her feet. Her grandma brought her a change of clothes and braided her hair back so she looked a bit better despite the scowl painted on her face.

"What are you doing out here alone, pumpkin?" I smiled, sitting next to her. "Don't you want to watch cartoons inside?"

She shook her head and continued to stare ahead, waiting for her father's red Jeep and her mother's black motorcycle to come around the corner.

"H-Hey!" I tried again, my resolve shrinking. "Your birthday is coming up soon. Do you know what cake you want?"

Once again, I received a head shake and a blank stare.

This little girl, once full of smiles, was now a shell of her former self and it killed me.

'Oh, Miles, Young-ja' I sighed, taking Ae-cha into my arms as tears came to my eyes. 'Where are you?!'

* * *

"Miss…Angel, are you…alright?" Felix asked as he carried me piggyback down the hallway.

"….Yeah." I breathed, watching my blood soak through the bandages and drip down his back. "Heh, heh, I'm painting your back, Felix. Such pretty Geraniums…"

In my hazy vision, my blood looked like flowers and I found myself laughing at the beautiful sight.

"Hold on, Miss…Angel." His voice quivered at the sensation, and I laughed once again. "We are…al…most at..the Male…Ward."

"Will he really be there…?" I had been chasing Miles for so long that I wasn't sure he really was there. Father Martin might be leading me into another trap. Well, what the fuck will they do to me next? Take my other arm? Take one of my legs? Pluck my eyes out? Anything to keep me from being with my family like I fucking wanted to be? Even if we escape from here, what could I do? I could no longer play the violin or piano. Or pick up my daughter and swing her around. Or ride my bike. Or embrace Miles.

Even if we escape this hell hole, nothing will be the same…..

"Miss Angel? Are..are you…**crying**?"

"Please, Felix." I whimpered, watching my tears mix with my blood through cloudy eyes. "Just..just take me to my husband so this freak show can come to an end."

Felix just nodded and continued moving forward, leaving me to mourn in silence.

* * *

The Male Ward was a lot different than I remembered it.

Of course, I was just passing through and running from those twins.

Yet, I vaguely recall someone warning me about this place. I racked my brain for any hints but came up with nothing.

'It was probably nothing.'

We were currently at some type of crossroads with a hallway on each side.

"Which..way shall we go..?" Felix inquired, gasping when I nearly slipped out of his grip. "Gah! Miss Angel! Are..you..okay?"

"Nnnh." I groaned, feeling my phantom limb acting up again. "Felix…hurry up and bring me to my husband."

"R-r-right..away!" Then Felix tore down the right hallway, chanting "Apostle appear! Apostle appear!"

And all the while, the blood started gushing out more vigorously and I knew I was fucked.

"F-felix…" I panted, my vision fading away and my skin becoming stark white.

'I..can't..die..just..yet..'

Just as Felix raced by an open door, I heard someone call out.

Apparently Felix heard it too since he back peddled and peeked inside.

"Hello..?" He called out softly.

"Is anyone down there?" A clear, coherent voiced called out from a speaker on a dumbwaiter. "Come on, answer me!"

'Is this one of the scientists? Did someone actually survive the slaughter?'

Felix scurried towards the speaker and leaned in close.

"Yes…we are down here…Miss Angel…is…hurt…and we are…looking…for Father Martin's Witness…"

"I might be able to help you and your friend. Hurry and climb into the dumbwaiter!"

For some reason, I felt uneasy about our 'savior' but I allowed Felix to place me inside the dumbwaiter before squeezing in next to me.

The machine came to life and we were lifted up slowly.

Thinking back on it now, maybe I should've put up a fight.

Maybe I should've told Felix to run away.

Maybe I should've done a lot of things.

But nothing mattered as the dumbwaiter reached its destination and we caught sight of our savior.

"Good choice." a withered and bony old man chuckled before yanking us out and throwing us on the ground.

"AAH!" I cried, landing on my injured side.

"**MISS ANGEL,…RUN!**" Felix screamed, scrambling off the ground and launching himself onto our attacker.

"Felix, no!"

"Jumpy little fucker, aren't ya?" The man snickered, easily slamming Felix back on the ground before digging his heel into his sternum. "Well, since you are so eager for attention, allow me to grant it to you."

The old man then pulled out a pair of bone shears from under his apron and stabbed the dull blades through Felix's windpipe repeatedly.

"NOOO!" I cried, reaching out towards the only Varient that showed me any compassion in this shit hole. "FELIX!"

Felix's mouth moved, like he was trying to say something, but all that came out was blood. Slowly, he extended his hand towards mine and…a smile formed on his face.

Then, just as I grasped his hand in mine, he went still and the world became cold.

"You idiot…" I sobbed, holding his cold hand to my cheek. "Why did you do that? I was going to take you with me…..How dare you? How dare you smile at me when I've done nothing for you?"

"How sentimental." The old bastard cooed, as if he didn't just kill an innocent man. "I haven't been this choked up since Susan Hayward's performance in _I Want to Live._"

"Shut up!" I snapped at him, wishing I still had my other arm so I could strangle him. "Felix was just trying to protect me, and you tricked us! How dare yo-!?"

"Yeah, yeah, boo hoo, How about you answer my question first?" The old man crouched down on one leg next to me. "What is a woman like yourself doing in our fine asylum? And-oh, look at the mess you're making on my floor."

The man gestured towards my stump, shaking his head in mock pity.

"Fuck off." I spat at his face, trying to push aside the sudden wave of nausea.

"My, my," He laughed, wiping my spit off his mask. "Such crass language for a lady…Hmmm."

The man leaned forward and pulled me up by my hair, causing me to wince in pain.

"What are you-?!"

"You look familiar, sweetie. You come here often or something?"

"Like Hell! That trash bin you call a brain must be imagining things!"

"…..Well what do ya know?" The old man suddenly chuckled, releasing his hold on my hair. "Never thought I see your face again, minxy."

"M-Minxy?! What are you talking about?!"

"What is this? You don't remember old Rick? I'm offended!" Gradually, he lowered the surgeon's mask from his face, showing me his missing upper lip. "Take a closer look."

Still confused, I did as he commanded and stared at his bony face.

Then, everything came back to me.

Those scornful eyes. That crass manner of speaking. That irritating smirk.

"Y….You….you were the man in the café." I gasped, not believing my eyes. "Mr. Richard Trager."

"Bingo!" Trager cheered, pulling his mask back up. "I knew you couldn't forget me. Is that why you're here? Decided to dump your string bean boyfriend for a real man, kiddo?"

"No! And I'm happily married to that string bean, thank you very much!"

"Really? Such a waste." Trager shook his head once again. "So, does Mr. Lucky know his wifey is here? How is my old buddy anyways?"

"What's it to you?" I glared at him, my vision starting to go double.

"Oh, I've just heard something about Father Martin receiving a witness today. …That wouldn't happen to be him, would it?"

I gulped involuntarily, and he laughed.

"It is him, isn't it? And, let me guess, you came here to rescue him like a good little wife, correct?" As I averted my eyes, Trager's laughter grew louder as he clutched his abdomen. "This is too perfect! Like something out of a soap opera!"

"Shu-AHH!" I screamed as he dug his long fingers into my stump.

"I wonder how he will react to see his blushing bride like this." Trager mumbled to himself, the smirk apparent in his voice. "Hmmm, this could be fun."

Suddenly, I was thrown over his shoulder and blacked out momentarily from the abrupt movement.

"Ngh….where are you taking me?" I moaned, the upright position causing my blood to gush out.

"Well you and your hubbie just provided me with some much needed entertainment. And as the main actress of the show, I can't allow you to die before the fun really begins, so Dr. Trager is going to fix you right up."

'Fix me up…?' My stomach churned at the ominous promise, but I couldn't do anything but let him carry me away as I watched Felix's corpse become smaller and smaller.

"Don't worry, Stumpy." He chuckled, running his nails down my legs. "I'm going to take **great care of you**."

**A/N: What will Trager do to her?! And will Miles and Young-ja see each other soon? Will Ae-cha be with her parents soon?! :0 Look forward to the next chapter! I'll try to have some more happy moments, even if it is just in their memories...**


	41. Consultation

**A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and support! Hope this story continues to please you!**

**Welcome all and any new readers!**

"_I wonder if they know we're still up here." I mumbled, peering down at the ground from the Ferris wheel gondola we were currently in. _

"_Guess they'll find out when they start up the ride again." Miles hummed, sitting across from me with his feet resting over the edge of the ride like a complete idiot._

"_Why are you here anyways?" I shot a glare at him, partly out of annoyance and partly out of worry for him tipping the gondola over sitting like that._

_It was New Year's Eve and our college was having a winter carnival for the students and locals. Admission was free for all freshmen, but that wasn't what convinced me to come._

_What convinced me was a classmate of mine who borrowed sheet music from me and had yet to return it. So, when I asked for her to return it, she told me to meet her at the fair; she never showed up at the meeting spot and I looked like an idiot just standing there. _

_So, I planned on heading back to the dorms but then I caught sight of the Ferris wheel and thought I might as well go on something before the fair closes._

_There wasn't anyone in line, so I got my own gondola to sit in._

_Well…I __**had**__ my own gondola to sit in until someone hopped in and sat in front of me._

_It was Miles Upshur, armed with his Walkman as usual._

_I should've been surprised to see him, but in our three months of friendship, I've come to expect him to pop up anywhere._

_We nodded at each other and the ride started up._

_I marveled at the view and shivered the cool, winter night breeze, while Miles listened to his music and glanced at the view once in a while. _

_Then, just as our gondola reached the top again, the ride stopped._

_At first, I thought it was to let someone else on, but I slowly realized everyone else was getting off the other rides._

_Then I remembered all rides ceased for the midnight firework show._

_And since Miles and I were still on our ride, that meant we were forgotten._

_Typical._

"_I'm here because I want to be." Miles responded, now swinging his legs back and forth. "What are you, the ride police?"_

"_**Will you stop it?!**__" I screeched, leaning over and slamming my hands on his knees. "You're going to tip us over!"_

"_Scared of heights, Short Stack?" He smirked, swinging his legs faster now._

"_**I'm scared**__ off falling to my death! Now quit it!"_

"_No."_

"_You're impossible!" I snapped, sitting back and crossing my arms like a five year old. "Fine. Kill us then. It's not like I wanted to live until my nineteenth birthday or anything."_

"_How many times do I have to say this? Lighten up, Short Stack." Miles groaned, sitting up and putting his Walkman away. "Look, we have the perfect view for the fireworks show. We are young, vibrant, and filled with discount cotton candy. So __**chill the hell out**__ and enjoy the show."_

_I just glared at him before turning away._

"…_..I always get into weird situations with you," I grumbled under my breath, but Miles heard me anyways._

"_Care to repeat that, Kimchi breath?" Miles shot back._

"_**I said**__, I always get into weird situations with you! I eat at Burger King every week now! You made me go buy a karaoke machine last week AND you cheated the cashier out of 40 bucks! I had to cover for you when you fell asleep in class by mimicking you so the professor wouldn't yell at you! And now, I'm stuck in the freezing cold on the top of a Ferris wheel and you keep rattling the gondola and I just wanted a quick ride in peace but I'm not getting that apparently! __**So don't you dare tell me to chill out!**__"_

_And with that, I pulled my legs to my chest and buried my face against my knees, embarrassed by my sudden outburst._

_It was silent for a moment, and just as I rose my head to apologize, I felt the gondola shift and something warm was placed around my shoulders._

_I looked up to see Miles sitting next to me and putting his shearling jacket on me._

"_Miles, wh-?"_

"_You said you were freezing right? This jacket should warm you up."_

"_I don't want your jacket, Miles. You'll catch a cold wearing just a t-shirt anyways." I began slipping the jacket off, but Miles kept it in place._

"_**I'm fine**__. Besides, I'm used to cold weather, a few minutes without a jacket isn't going to kill me. Now shut up and warm up."_

_I stared up at him, confused._

"…_..I'm not used to this."_

"_Used to what?"_

"_Used to you…being so sweet to me. You're usually so callous and snarky. It's just….weird to see you being a gentleman."_

"…_..Would it make you feel better if I threw you overboard?"_

"_No! I just…find it nice. It is good to know you're not a smoothing talking jerk face 24/7 and-."_

"_Oh shut up before I really throw you overboard." Miles snapped, turning away from me._

"…_..Miles? Are..are you…__**blushing**__?"I gasped, noticing how red his cheeks were getting. "Miles, you can actually get embarrassed?!"_

"_**Shut up!**__" He covered his mouth, still not looking at me. "It's the cold, alright?!"_

_I watched him try to cover up his darkening blush, and I found myself laughing._

"_What now?!" Miles whipped his head back around, his eyes shooting daggers at me._

"_You're just so cute!" I cried, covering my face with the inside of Miles' jacket. "You always look so cocky or serious! I never thought you could look so adora-!"_

"_**Shut up shut up!**__" Miles rubbed his knuckles against my head, and I couldn't help but laugh harder._

"_Alright, alright!" I swatted his hands away, tears in my eyes and smile still stuck to my face. "Ah, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."_

_Miles just grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms, facing away from me once more._

_I smiled at him and thought back on what I said._

"_Y'know," I spoke up, pulling his jacket closer and noticing how warm I made me feel. "while you do drag me into weird situations, I…I always find myself having fun. So, I want to say I'm sorry for yelling at you, and…thank you for being my friend."_

_He faced me, his scowl still in place._

_Then, his face started to twitch and he slammed his hand over his mouth once again as his blush reemerged._

"_You're turning me into a fucking sap, Short Stack."_

_I laughed as he gave me a light punch against the arm._

_Then an explosion echoed across the fairgrounds and the sky was illuminated with color._

"_Wow…" I breathed out, amazed by how the fireworks looked up close._

_Miles was right, this was an amazing view._

_I peeked over at him, watching the colors reflect in his eyes and I had the sudden urge to do something stupid._

_So, I leaned over and gave him a New Year's kiss on the cheek._

"_**WHA?!**__" Miles shot back, nearly falling out of the gondola. "__**What the hell was that?!**__"_

"_It was a New Year's kiss." I mumbled, my cheeks heating up._

'_God, I'm such an idiot! Why did I kiss him all of a sudden?!'_

_I was knocked out of my thoughts when Miles wrapped his arm around my shoulder and looked me dead in the eye._

"_Kissing a guy you barely know? For shame, Short Stack." He sighed. "Looks like your virtue's been compromised. Guess we got to get married now."_

"_Ew! No!" I giggled, pushing him away. "__**Like I would ever marry you!**__ You're too rambunctious for me!"_

"_Hey, I'm not the one kissing people left and right." Miles held his hands out in surrender, a smirk on his face. "But, yeah, __**I wouldn't marry a stick in the mud like you!**__ You are going to end up with someone as mundane as you!"_

"_Jerk." I stuck my tongue at him and turned back to watch the fireworks._

_Suddenly, I pulled back against a firm chest and a pair of warm lips quickly touched my cheek._

_I didn't have to turn around to see the blush on Miles' face; I could already feel my own heating up._

_So, I just smiled and placed my hands over his._

_Even though he is prickly as a cactus sometimes, I'm glad Miles is my best friend and that he is the one I'm welcoming the New Year with._

"_Happy New Year's, Miles."_

"…_Happy New Year's, Young-ja."_

* * *

"Here we are, then." Trager hummed, kicking the door open to an abandoned room.

The smell of rotting flesh engulfed my senses and I felt bile rise to my throat.

I was placed on what used to be an operating table and my legs and arm were quickly tied down with restraints.

'Oh God.' I whimpered, struggling to free myself despite how futile I knew it was. 'What is he going to do with me?'

"Just sit tight, Stumpy." Trager patted my cheek with mock affection before waltzing towards a cart on the other side of the room. "I'm going to make everything all right now."

"…..What do you mean by that?" I asked, mentally slapping myself for the stupid question.

"What I mean is," He replied, walking back towards the table with a handful of tubes that had needles jutting from them. "Women are precious commodities in this world, especially here at the asylum. Like with clean water, every. single. drop. is. precious."

And with that, he took one of the tubes and jammed it into my right shoulder.

"AAAAAHH-!"

"Sssshhhh!" Trager covered my mouth with his free hand. "Don't you know it's impolite to scream at someone, young lady?" Then he jammed the other end of the tube into my stump.

Tears streamed down my face at the burning sensation and my wrist and ankles began to bleed as I continued to struggle against the restraints.

"As any good doctor, I'll explain the procedure." Trager said, in a happy-go-lucky tone. "Do you see the patient drip on my arm? Made it myself. It has a few hiccups but I'm still kicking. So, to save a valuable resource, I've decided to share my life source with you. Aren't you so lucky? And it's a good thing your veins and arteries are visible or Old Rick would be having a tough time!"

And he laughed at that before jabbing another tube in.

"Why…?" I mumbled against his palm, screwing my eyes shut with every jab.

"Why, you ask? It's just as I said. Women are a valuable resource, and if you are dead," Trager then stabbed a thick needle through my stump and I winced in response, "what use are you to me?"

Then, with a long strand of tattered red string, he sewed up the hanging skin around my stump and cleaned off the dried blood with a wet cloth.

"There we go." Trager removed his hands and stepped back like he was admiring his handiwork.

I rolled my head to the right and stared at the tubes filled with blood jutting from my stump and shoulder like some parasite feeding off of me.

'Maybe I'm better off dying here…..Even if Miles finds me, he'll probably mistake me for one of the Variants.'

"You've been a good girl taking all of those teeny weeny shots like a champ. And I didn't even sterilize them." Trager patted my cheek again, and I resisted the urge to bite the damn thing off.

'If this guy doesn't kill me, the bacteria probably will…'

"Now, eat this." Trager shoved something mushy against my lips.

"Mmph?!" I slammed my lips together and turned away, not wanting him to poison me.

"Now, now, this is just a reward." He waved a partly melted brown square in front of me. "It's chocolate from the vending machine. It'll replenish some of that blood you lost, Stumpy."

Even if it really was chocolate, I refused to open my mouth.

"Stubborn, stubborn." He shook his head and took my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. "Now, Stumpy, you can eat the chocolate like a good girl, or I can force your mouth open with a C-clamp and ram this fucking thing down your windpipe." His nails dug into my cheek at the last option. "So choose wisely."

I glared up at the bastard for a moment before slowly opening my mouth.

"There's a good girl." Trager praised in this mockingly sweet tone, dropping the chocolate square into my mouth.

As the sweet melted against my tongue, I realized how long it had been since I last ate. It was heaven in my mouth, and I was tempted to ask for more.

"Now that you have some sugar in your blood, it is time for some experimentation." Trager quickly removed the restraints before pulling at a metal chain hanging from the ceiling.

"Wha-?" Before I could utter another syllable, Trager wrapped the chain around my throat and threw me on the ground.

Then he yanked the other end of the chain and I was hoisted into the air.

I flailed around, pulling at the chain digging into my neck and gasped for air.

"Wha-what are you doing?!"

"As I've said **many** times, women are a precious commodity and I haven't had a chance to experiment on a female before. So, tell me, Stumpy." He waltzed over to another cart that was lined with a variety of blades, pipes, and needles before picking up a rusty hacksaw and lifting it up to the light. "**Just how high is a woman's pain tolerance?**"

**A/N: Wow! Blast from the past, huh? It has been forever since I wrote about Miles and Young-ja in their college years. Back when they were little shits to each other and their feelings were blossoming. Ah, that flashback takes places after the first text of chapter 3. And, for anyone who has seen episode one of Ouran High School Host Club, imagine Miles' twitching blush like Tamaki's after Haruhi smiles at him. Lol. I miss writing awkward teenage Miles and Young-ja. Look forward to the next chapter! **


	42. Robbery

**A/N: Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews and support! Hope my story continues to please you! **

**Welcome all and any new readers!**

My entire body was on fire.

I felt my bones crack with every blow as I was swung back and forth like a pendulum.

Yet, I couldn't scream, not with the chain around my neck crushing my trachea.

"Y'know, I was an avid golfer, once upon a time. Yet, I believe baseball might be my true talent!" And Trager whacked my ribs with a metal pipe and blood spewed from my mouth. "What's the matter, Stumpy? **Can't scream?**"

He yanked the chain harder, constricting my windpipe further and causing me to choke on my blood.

I kicked my legs in protest and desperately grasped onto the chain around my neck, unheard cries and screams plastered on my lips.

"Tell me, Stumpy," Trager vocalized, catching my leg as I swung back towards him. "How did you lose your arm anyways? C'mon, indulge your doctor."

'How the fuck do you expect me to answer when I can barely breathe?!'

I tried to answer him, but all that came out of my mouth was blood, some which splattered across his surgical mask.

"Hmm, not talking huh? Guess I'll have to draw it out of you." And he started whacking my body again, this time hitting my sternum.

My eyes widened as another wave of blood flooded my mouth and I frantically tried to answer the bastard, but I couldn't.

So I mouthed it over and over, praying he would take the hint.

"What's this?" He grabbed my leg again and stared at my blood stained lips with a hard gaze. "….Walrider? **The Walrider** took your arm?"

I nodded, my tears increasing as the chain started to break through my skin.

'I answered your fucking question! Now let me go!'

Trager started to laugh and twirled me around.

"Wow, Stumpy, you meet the Walrider and just get off with a missing arm? What did you do? Indulged an intrigued scientist."

As he twirled me faster and faster, the chain dug deeper and deeper until blood trickled down my fingers.

I racked my brain for any possible answer, any possible reason for Billy's assault, but only one thing came to mind and I silently screamed it out for Trager.

"Hmm?" He jerked me to a stop and stared at my lips again. "….'He called me Mother?'"

I nodded, feeling my consciousness start to slip away from the lack of oxygen.

"Ha!" Trager barked, putting the, now bloody, metal pipe down. "How bittersweet. That Billy kid cries for his mother every single day, and then he mistakes the first woman he sees as her. Of course, the idiot hates her for not rescuing him, yet he still spares his 'mother's' life when she finally comes for him. How perfect!'

As Trager explained Billy's reasoning, I found myself feeling sorry for him.

Not entirely though.

No, my anger was too great for complete pity and forgiveness now.

"We were bleeding money after that little shit started controlling his lucid dreams. Luckily, I was able to…**cut back on staff** to save us from going into bankruptcy."

'What? Was this guy a former Murkoff employee?'

"Let this be a lesson to you, Stumpy. Money is everything." Then, he turned back to his 'operation' cart and sorted through the various tools. "Anyhoo~ now that I've relieved some stress, let's move onto phase two."

'P-phase two?!'

"There is a huge market for organs—reproductive organs, especially. And who better to become the means of production than the consumers themselves? So," Trager turned around, brandishing a large bone saw. "how 'bout we look at that uterus of yours?"

'**No! No! NO! NOOOO!**' I flailed against Trager's grip, but froze the moment he placed the tip of the saw against my abdomen.

"I would like to make a straight line, so please refrain from moving. Don't want to give you any **unnecessary injuries** after all~."

I was too focused on the gigantic blade poking my skin to pay any mind to his jabs.

"There's a good girl. Now, hold still."

'**OhGodnoohGodnoohGodnoohGodno.**'

Trager pressed the tip harder against my skin and I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the unspeaking pain that awaited me.

…But it never happened.

Instead, Trager cut the chain and I plummeted to the ground, ripping the wretched thing off my neck and throwing up the blood clogging my throat.

Every breath I took was like nails digging in my throat, and my body was so horribly bruised and beaten that I could barely move.

Mustering up all my strength, I gazed up at Trager to find him staring intently at the doorway.

Like he could hear something.

"It seems another patient has arrived." Trager smiled, placing the saw back on the cart and walking towards the door. "Don't worry, Stumpy. I'll be back to give you attention as soon as I greet my new client."

He opened the door, and the light from the hallway burned my eyes.

"I would say don't go anywhere, but in your case, I don't think that'll be a problem." He laughed, as if that was the funniest thing in the entire fucking world. "Until then, try not to die, Stumpy. Living brains are more interesting to dissect than dead ones."

And with that, he slammed the door behind him and I was left to suffer in the darkness, alone.

* * *

(Miles)

'Fuck, fuck, fuck!' I hurdled over a stack of chairs, hearing the two Variants' screams echo behind me.

"You slippery little whore!"

I had just found my way out of the sewer and out of Chris Walker's clutches, only to end up in someone else's.

Heart pounding in my ears, I hurried down the hallway with a death grip on my camcorder.

"You can't hide!"

The voices were getting closer, and it was times like these when I wish I had something to protect myself with.

Veering to the right, I climbed on top of a desk and hopped over a barred doorway, figuring that would buy me a moment or two.

That hope was ripped to shreds when the two Variants started hacking at the door with axes.

'Shit!'

I raced through an empty break room and down a dark hallway, spotting a light coming from a far left door.

Scurrying inside and slamming the door behind me, I nearly crapped myself when a voice rang out from a speaker on the other side of the room.

"Who's down there? You're not one of them, are you? Quick! Get in the dumbwaiter if you want to live!"

For a brief millisecond, I was going to tell my 'savoir' to go fuck himself, but the door busted open behind me and I figured whatever was up there couldn't be worse than what was down here.

Quickly, I climbed into the tiny space and slammed the gate down behind me.

The dumbwaiter buzzed to life and slowly ascended up to the next floor.

And, like the idiot I was, I allowed myself to relax and lean against the vibrating wall of the lift.

I didn't know what to expect when the lift reached its destination, but I hoped whatever was waiting for me on the next floor was something I could outrun.

The lift eventually slowed to a stop and I opened my eyes to see my 'savior'.

And the moment I laid my eyes on him, I knew I was fucked.

"You made the right choice here, Buddy."

Before I could move a muscle, his fist connected with my temple, stunning me, before beating me into the ground until I could barely feel a thing.

My vision hazy, I rolled onto my back to face my assaulter and was mildly disturbed to see something flash across his eyes.

"Hey, you're that little shit priest's guy, aren't you?" He said with a light laugh before getting down on one knee, heaving a sigh. "His…witness or whatever. You must be exhausted. Let's take a break, huh, buddy? The old two martini lunch, have a little confab."

Maybe I was better of letting those guys downstairs hack me to pieces.

He lifted me by the front of my jacket before tossing me over his shoulder and throwing me onto a wheelchair like a ragdoll.

"Oof! Heavier than you look! A little cardio wouldn't kill you."

Its official, this guy is a piece of shit.

My head was killing me and I could barely see straight as the fucker strapped me in to the wheelchair.

'Like I can do anything in this state, so why bother…'

"Okay. Here we go. Arms and legs inside the car at all times." He chuckled, patting my legs before getting up and wheeling me out of the room.

It might have been my jumbled brain, but I swore I heard the fuckface mutter "You've gotten taller" under this breath.

As he wheeled me down the hallway, I forced my body to move, to struggle, to do anything but sit there!

But my body was unresponsive and I bit my lip at the thought of how utterly fucked I was.

'Maybe Chris Walker will come blasting through the wall and fight this guy so I can use the distraction to wheel myself away…'

Fat chance of that happening.

As we approached an elevator, my vision started to stabilize.

"Y'know, I love the mountain air up here." He turned the wheelchair towards the end of the hallway and I saw the exit door, leading to a raging storm outside. "You want to head out, take a stroll? Go on, I'll wait here. Go on! Run free!"

'Oh, you fucker…' I curled my hands into fists and glared at the bastard, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.

"No? Alright." He shrugged and moved behind me, pulling me into the elevator and away from the chance at freedom. "Nose to the grindstone, I like that. Right this way then." He laughed and pushed the up arrow, crossing his hands behind his back as the elevator ascended.

Now that my head was clear, I got a good look at my captor.

He was a walking bag of skin and bones with some strange contraption on his left arm that appeared to be some type of transfusion drip and had freakishly long nails.

Is he a patient then? …..No, his manner of speaking proves he still has a grasp on reality, unlike the others.

And he had a monocle attached to his eyes along with a tattered surgical mask.

'A surgical mask? Then,….was he one of the asylum's doctors?'

My musings were cut short when the elevator stopped and I was pushed out into the adjacent room.

A trail of blood was smeared down the hallway, and I could hear people screaming in the distance.

"**Kill me….Kill me!...KILL MEEE!**"

'Oh fuck…..'

We turned a corner, and I felt my blood ice over at the sight of a man tied to a hospital bed, his mouth sewn shut and blood soaked into the mattress beneath him.

"Shhh, shhh!" The bastard pointed at the man like a reprimanding parent. "You weren't putting that tongue to any use anyways." Then, he leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "Truth be told, I was just tired of licking my own stamps."

My mouth went dry as I realized what his man 'did for a living'.

'I am so fucked right now…'

He wheeled me into a dark room that reeked of decaying flesh, humming a "Here we are then" as he closed the door behind us.

Slowly, the light flickered on and I found myself wishing he kept them off.

The floor and walls were covered in blood and human remains; some were still fresh out of the body too.

"Thanks so much for coming by. We'll begin your consultation in a moment. I'll just need a second to wash up…" He trailed off as he picked up my camcorder. "Oh! Home movies!"

"Hey!" I shouted, finally breaking my silence. "Give that back!"

"And he speaks!" The 'surgeon' laughed. "Well, since you have this, it will give us a chance to talk." He did this director's pose before placing it on the sink counter and washing his hands.

"Talk about what exactly?"

"Oh, y'know, the usual." He hummed, shutting the water off and drying his hands on his apron. "The weather, golf scores, what you are doing here?" The 'surgeon' whirled around and crossed his arms with this shit-eating smirk on his face. "Looking for anyone, perhaps?"

My thoughts immediately went to Young-ja, but I just glared at him and shook my head.

"No, I'm a journalist. Last night, I received a tip that fucked up things were happening here, decided to come check it out."

"And are 'fucked up things' happening here, Buddy?"

"You tell me, 'surgeon'. I'm not the one ripping people's tongues out."

"Touché, and what do you plan on doing with this information, Mr. Reporter?"

"I'm going to send it to the press and burn Murkoff to the fucking ground." My tone was even, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt like I've seen this guy before.

The 'surgeon' chuckled and shook his head before walking over to a rolling cart.

A rolling cart with saws and knives on it.

"You wanna know the mistake you're making here, Buddy? You think you will find the truth, you think you will uncover something, and everything will just," He strolled back over to me with a bone saw in his hand and placed it against my neck, "fall into place."

"What do you mean by mistake?" I gulped, not moving a muscle. "I WILL uncover the truth and everyone will know about the unspeakable horrors going on in this shithole!"

"Oh?" He backed away and went over to the cart again. "So, you have some grand revelation that will make sense of all these 'unspeakable horrors', that'll explain that could drive men to such creative extremes of inhumanity." He came back another bone saw, placing it against my wrist like he was measuring whether it was sharp enough to do the job.

Just as I was about to retort, he grabbed my left hand and examined it closely.

"What the fuck are you-?!"

"You a married man, Buddy?" His tone was flat, but I felt some ulterior motive underneath it that gave me the chills.

"…..What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thought a strapping man such as yourself would have a girl back home. Some cute, little thing with soft skin and big, brown eyes that drive men wild."

My stomach lurched as he basically described Young-ja.

"….No, but," I leaned forward and stared into his gray eyes, trying to decipher any secrets he might have, "would you have happened to find someone like that?"

The 'surgeon' just smirked and shook his head.

"I thought you were a journalist, Buddy. You should know Mount Massive Asylum doesn't have any female patients."

I leered at his back as he waltzed back towards the cart, a shard of doubt still lingering in my brain.

"…Yeah. I know that. And I also know you Murkoff fuckers have been experimenting on mentally ill patients for the sake of some experiment—an experiment that got out of your control and damned everyone in this asylum to Hell!"

The bastard just stared at me for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"I hate to be the one to break the bad news, but even if you think you understand what's happening here, you're only going to be halfway down the rabbit hole!"

"I don't need to go all the way," I lifted my chin, daring him to one-up me. "I just need enough to take Murkoff down and expose the truth."

"Oh, Buddy!" He slammed his palms on the cart, making me jump. "Don't you understand?! It's always been the case that whoever's holding the money gets to say what the truth is! But then, THEN, what happens when all the money is gone? When everything is based on debt? On credit?" After posing that random question, the 'surgeon' walked over to one of the urinals on the wall and pulled out a pair of bone shears.

"Uh…" I trailed off, watching him clean the fucking huge thing off with his apron.

'Put it back, put it back. **Please! Put it back!**'

"C'mon, Buddy!" The 'surgeon' whined, looked over at me. "You can guess this one."

I didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the bone shears in his hands.

When he realized he wasn't getting an answer, the 'surgeon' sighed with a small grin on his face.

"It's…faith! Money is a matter of faith! Take note of this, Reporter, all we ever were trying to do was sell you the dream. But you can't make a deal if you got nothing to barter with! You got to be inside the dream to buy it, you. got. to. have. faith." Then he lifted the 'polished' shears up to the light. "And that's what I'm here for."

My heart dropped to the floor as he waltzed back towards me with the shears, snipping them slowly. "To make you…**BELIEVE**."

"**Oh God no**..!" I tried to pull my wrist away but he snatched it into his hand and brought the shears down and-

"**Nonononono-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH**!"

I tossed my head back as a crunch echoed throughout the room and it felt like my hands were being ripped to shreds.

FUCK FUCK FUCK MY FINGERS! HE CHOPPING OFF MY FINGERS!

"You paying attention!?" The 'surgeon' taunted, smacking me across the face with this sick grin. "Don't pass out on me! There's still lots for you to absorb!"

In my hazy vision, I saw him reach towards my left hand and I immediately curled my fingers in a feeble attempt to protect them, but Trager simply laughed and forcibly uncurled them before once again-.

"**AAAAAHHHHHH!**" Another crunch was heard and it took all of my willpower to not pass out then and there from the excruciating pain tearing through my hands.

"**FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!**"

"Feeling better now?" The 'surgeon' smirked, waving my detached fingers in front of my face before tossing them onto the cart. "Do you understand what we achieved here? We made the consumer into the means of production. This thing is going to sell itself!"

He wheeled the cart towards the door, but before opening it, he leaned over and patted my cheek.

"And as payment, why don't I bring **a surprise** over for you? I'm sure **you'll love it**!"

Then he laughed once more and left the room.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to catch my breath and ride out the shocks of pain.

Then, gradually, I opened my eyes and looked down.

I could barely recognize my own voice as I realized the extent of the damage that fucker did to me. My sleeves were covered in blood and fractured bone stuck out from where my fingers were sliced off.

My right index and left ring finger were gone.

My fingers were gone.

My fingers were gone!

**MY MOTHERFUCKING FINGERS WERE GONE!**

"**I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!**" I began struggling against my restraints, using my blood stained wrists as a lubricant until they finally slipped out.

I slowly rose to my feet, swaying unsteadily on my feet until I fell forward and grasped the sink for support.

The stench of my own blood invaded my senses and the shock of losing my fingers so violently flooded my brain until I couldn't take it anymore.

My throat burned as I threw up what little dinner was still in my stomach, the convulsions rocking my body until there was nothing left but dry heaves.

Once my stomach calmed down, I leaned against the sink and tried to come to terms with what just happened.

'Fucker just ripped my fingers off!... And he will be back with some kind of surprise; I'm not sticking around to find out what it is.'

Still panting, I reached out and grabbed my camcorder off the counter, not knowing whether to be happy or disgusted that it recorded me.

Covering my face, I took a few deep breathes, telling myself to get it together.

'You've come too fucking far to die here, Miles. And you got to find Young-ja before that sick fucker get his hands on her.'

That thought alone brought me to my senses, and with a sharp breath, I pushed myself away from the sink and towards the door.

* * *

(Young-ja)

I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep until I awoke to Trager nudging my cheek with his foot.

"Wakey wakey, Stumpy~!" His cheerful greeting made my blood boil, but I was too weak to do or say anything. "Cat got your tongue? How rude! Especially after I went through the trouble of bringing you a present."

He crouched down next to me and shoved a pair of blooded fingers into my face, causing me to screw my eyes shut and face away from the gruesome sight.

"Y'know," He mumbled, poking me with the appendages. "You're hubby has quite the potty mouth."

And those words, my eyes shot open and it felt like someone just ripped my heart out.

'**WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!**' I mouthed and reached out to grab his arm, not caring if it sent searing pain down my arm. '**WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HUSBAND?!**'

"Well,…why don't we go and find out?"

And with that, he snatched my arm up and began dragging my body out of the room.

' Miles…' I cried, my tears like acid against my injuries. 'I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you….'

**A/N: I changed Trager's monologue to the one from the Xbox Outlast trailer. Lots of pain in this chapter. Will Young-ja be able to speak again? What will happen to Miles and Young-ja now? Look forward to the next chapter!**


	43. And So The Veil Lifts

**A/N: Thank you so much for the freaking awesome reviews and love! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**I welcome all and every and any new readers! Please enjoy!**

* * *

Splinters dug into my back as Trager dragged me down the hallway, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

Not when I knew this monster had gotten his hands on my husband.

My tears stung my cheeks, and my sobs burned my throat, but I couldn't stop crying.

I came here to rescue Miles, but I failed him. I would've taken more of Trager's abuse, let Chris Walker tear me to shreds—hell, I would've let The Groom claim me as his bride.

I would've endured anything as long as I knew my husband was safe.

But now…

"You women **sure do** cry a lot." Trager butted in, not looking back at me. "Is it to attract men? Fluttering your pretty eyes with tears and rosy cheeks to get men's instincts all riled up? Heh, that must've been how you got your hubbie, right? He seems like a tough guy, but he crumbles like the rest of us. Haha, I still can remember how he looked when I cut his fingers off. Priceless!"

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, silently begging for him to stop.

"But, even better, was when I asked him if he was married. Any idiot could tell he was thinking of you. It is so fucking sappy, to be honest. There he was, about to be one of my experiments, and all he could think about…was his wife."

'**Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!**'

"I'm looking forward to him seeing you like this. What will he think, seeing his precious wife all beat up and damaged? Will he cry? Lash out? Or will he loathe himself for not being about to protect yo-?"

Using all the strength I could muster, I dug my fingernails into his hand, hoping I would draw blood and infect him with some horrible disease.

But Trager just paused and turned around to smirk down at me.

"What's this? Are you telling me to stop? Little Miss One Arm is telling **me** to shut up? Ha! **What can you do?** You can barely talk, let alone stand!"

And he was right, I couldn't do a damn thing, but that didn't stop me from digging my nails further into his wrinkled skin.

"Heh," Trager barked, jerking my arm roughly. "Nice to see your spark hasn't died….yet."

Suddenly, a scream echoed from down the hallway, and I felt my heart almost stop thinking it was Miles.

"It seems I have a rowdy patient." Trager suddenly dropped my arm before kicking me under one of the beds in the hallway. "Stay there, Stumpy. I'll be right back."

My ribs on fire, I watched him walk away, his footsteps so light that it seemed like he was floating.

'..I..have..to..find…Miles….'

Slowly, I rolled out from under the bed and grasped the railing against the bed. Then, screwing my eyes shut, I braced myself against the metal beams and gradually pulled myself to my shaking feet, pain tearing through my body with every movement.

Once I was on my feet, I tried to take a step forward, only to crumble to my knees as a shock flew up my leg. I wanted to scream, but I just couldn't. Breathing was hard enough as it was, so how the fuck could I manage to scream?

But I couldn't give up, no when Miles is so close.

Bracing myself once more, I lifted myself up with the assistance of the railing and managed to stumble towards the wall without too much difficulty.

'Hold on, Miles. I'm coming to get you. Just…please…don't go anywhere until I find you…..'

Then, at a snail-like pace, I trudged down the hallway using the wall as my support.

* * *

(Miles)

"Shut up!" I hissed at the former executive screaming his lungs out on the bed. "You're going to get the both of us killed!"

But the deformed man paid me no heed and just continued to scream Trager's name.

In the distance, I could hear someone walking down the hallway, and I quickly hid under a bed, my heart pounding in my ears.

Not two seconds later, Trager waltzed into the room and approached the screaming man, talking to him in that white collar business school douchebag voice of his.

'He was probably Murkoff brass before whatever infected this place got to him.'

"I see what's happening here. You're bored." Trager said, holding the same pair of bone shears he used on me. "You want a little attention. Perfectly understandable. Well, I'm here for you. I'll give you **very special attention**."

Then he lifted the shears up into the air before plunging them into the executive's chest, his screams of agony filling the air.

I've lost track on how many times someone has been killed in front of me since coming to this fucking hellhole. It must've been a lot since seeing this did nothing to me.

Had I become so desensitized that being stabbed in the chest meant nothing to me now?

'I got to get out of here before I lose my mind completely…'

I watched Trager walk away and quickly realized he was heading back to the room I was supposed to be in.

'Time to go!'

I rolled out from under the bed and dashed out of the room, just as I heard Trager yell, "Goddammit, how did you get out?!"

I paid no mind to my surroundings and kept running until I was back at the elevator shaft. Trager's footsteps were echoing down the hallway, and I immediately flew into the elevator, only to find the damn thing needed a fucking key!

"Shit, shit!" I mumbled under my breath, frantically searching for another exit route.

My old friend, the hanging vent louver, waved "Hello!" from the ceiling and I didn't waste a second in hopping up and crawling inside the dark, cramped sanctuary once more.

'I gotta find that elevator key pronto!'

As quietly as possible, I hopped out of the vent and landed in a dark hallway. Flicking my camcorder's night vision on, I creeped to the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner.

No one here, no one there.

"Alright," I whispered. "The coast is cl-AGH!"

In the fit of adrenaline, I'd forgotten I was missing two fingers and the strap of my camcorder just rubbed against one of the bony nubs.

"Fucking shit.." I moaned, praying no one heard my screams as I continued forward.

I nearly crapped myself when Trager's silhouette appeared at the end of the hallway, and I basically threw myself into the next room, plastering my back to the wall.

"Aw, Buddy." Trager sighed, his voice gradually getting louder. "What are you trying to do? I gave you a chance, didn't I? Didn't old Rick try to give you a hand?" In the dim light, I could see his shadow making its way down the hallway behind me. "Well, I can't help somebody who doesn't want to be helped. You're fired."

'You were never my fucking boss, dipshit.'

I waited until his footsteps were out of hearing range before getting up and venturing deeper into the room, knowing going back out into the hallway was suicide.

It appeared to be another hospital room with various beds and broken desks scattered here and there. Some beds were empty and some had a patient lying in it, whether they were dead or alive was beyond me.

'Hopefully you poor bastards are dead. Trust me, you're better off dead than alive right now.'

This room connected to another full of dead or alive patients, all with varying degrees of missing body parts.

The air reeked of piss and blood, and I hated that I was used to it by now.

Once I was back in the hallway, I veered to the left and headed towards a door blocked by a large metal cabinet.

Mustering up all my strength, I pushed against the damn thing until it slowly started to budge.

'**C'mon! Move, dammit! Move!**'

Eventually, the piece of shit was out of the way and I flung the door open and slammed it behind me, just as I heard a "There you are, Buddy!" echo from down the hallway.

Heart pounding in my ears, I tore down the hallway and raced into the first room I saw, slamming the door behind me once again. Surveying the room, I realized I hid in a fucking bathroom of all places!

The door pounded behind me, and I desperately searched for a place to hide.

All there was in the bathroom were a few stalls and a shit ton of lockers.

'**Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!'**

The pounding grew louder and the bolts on the door began to fall off their hinges.

Seeing no other option, I raced towards one of the stalls to hide in.

Suddenly, one of the lockers flew open and a hand shot out and grabbed me, yanking me inside before slamming it shut again.

I was in too much shock to put up a fight, much less scream, as my attacker placed their hand over my mouth to silence me.

Not a second later, the bathroom door shot open and Trager slithered in, his shears ready to attack.

"Buddy?" He called out in a sing-song voice, tapping the shears against the lockers and peeking into the stalls. "You here?"

My attacker tightened their grip over my mouth, and I found myself rolling my eyes.

'Oh yeah, as if I'm going to answer him, dumbass.'

Trager called out my nickname a couple more times, but after receiving nothing but silence, he sighed and walked out of the room, mumbling "Slippery little fucker" under this breath.

Once the coast was clear, I smacked the hand off my mouth and whirled around to face my attacker, not sure whether to be relieved or on edge.

I was still holding onto my "Trust no one" motto in this asylum, but this patient just saved my life, so I figured thanks was in order.

"…Hey,…thanks."

It was pitch black inside the locker, so I couldn't see my savior's face, but I could tell from when they were holding my mouth shut that they were much shorter than me.

And their body was…..was…

I felt the air turn ice cold, and my finger began to tingle.

'**Oh God….'**

Slowly, I lifted up my camcorder and turned on the back light, illuminating the locker in a bright light.

I could finally see my savior clearly, and I dropped my camcorder the moment I saw them, my limbs suddenly turning to jelly.

I couldn't believe my eyes at what I was seeing.

Because….

Because the person who just saved my life…

Was Young-ja.

* * *

**A/N: *Michael Scott from The Office voice* "OH MY GOD! IT'S HAPPENING! EVERYBODY STAY CALM! STAY FUCKING CALM!" lol. **

**Yes, it has happened! Originally, I planned for them to never find each other, but the way the story was going, it would be stupid to keep them apart since they were going to run into each other eventually. Actually, I was going to have Miles escape and Young-ja see him and try to call out to him, but she can't freaking speak so he doesn't know! But I figured they had suffered enough, so the lover and lady finally find each other after 21 chapters apart! But I'm still following the main storyline, so many things can still go wrong for them! :D And, please, give me some songs that make you think of Miles/Young-ja or Outlast in general! It helps me get inspired! :D Please~!**

**And everyone! Go check out "The Parks" by silkyterrier34! It is an awesome story about Waylon's family! We barely have any fanfiction about Lisa and the kids, so go check it out! It is really awesome! **

**Look forward to the next chapter! :D**


	44. Remorse

**A/N: Thank you so much for your patience and lovely reviews! My Word documents were acting up and I had a fever, so it was a tad delayed! So please enjoy this chapter! And I'm so happy you guys are happy Miles and Young-ja are together again!**

**And the THE OUTLAST 2 TRAILER CAME OUT! HOLY MOLEY! THANK YOU, GAME GODS! IT COMES OUT NEXT FALL! THE HYPE IS REAL! WHOOOOOO!**

**Ahem! Please enjoy this chapter! And I welcome all readers, new and old!**

(Young-ja)

I don't remember how I ended up in that locker.

I just followed the wall and prayed no one would find me.

'Have to find Miles….have to find Miles,' was my mantra as I trudged forward, the wooden floor like glass against my torn up feet.

The dead silence put me on edge, and I hoped whoever was screaming earlier would occupy Trager long enough for me to find Miles and get out of here.

Eventually I found myself in another patient ward and felt right at home with all the other mangled souls.

I considered stopping to rest, but when I heard a "Buddy, wait up!" in the distance, I scurried from the room as fast as humanly possible.

I raced into the first room I saw and winced as I realized it was a bathroom. But there were a few lockers off the side, and I quickly hid in one.

My haggard panting filled the confined space, and my throat burned like hell while I listened for any footsteps.

Not a second later, someone busted into the room and slammed the door behind them, almost sending me into cardiac arrest.

'Who could it be? A patient? …**Trager?**'

Holding my breath, I creeped towards the slits in the metal door to see who it was and nearly fainted.

**It was Miles.**

**My Miles!**

**HE IS HERE! HE IS ACTUALLY HERE!**

Tears poured down my cheeks, and I wanted to kick the door open and jump into his arms.

To kiss and hold him with all my might and never let go.

But the sound of Trager banging on the door knocked me out of my fantasy and I knew Miles was going to be in some deep shit if I didn't act now.

As he raced by my locker door, I whipped the door open and yanked him inside before slamming the door shut once more.

I held my hand over his mouth and everything went still as Trager waltzed into the room.

Feeling Miles' warm body next to mine after so long..was…**was pure Heaven**.

'You're here…' I silently wept, resting my forehead against his back. '**I've finally found you…**'

His body stiffened as I moved closer, and my heart cracked when he forcibly pushed me away the moment Trager left.

I knew Miles didn't know it was me, but it still hurt.

"Hey…," Miles voice shattered the thick silence and I couldn't help but smile at the familiar sound. "Thanks."

I just nodded, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

I just wanted to him to talk some more, so his beautiful voice could warm my chest once again.

But instead, the locker was suddenly filled with light and we both stumbled back in shock as we finally saw each other face to face.

There were glass shards poking out his scalp, his face and neck were bloodied and bruised, gore and grime caked his entire body, and his…**Oh, God, his fingers…!** Bones and torn cartilage jutted out from the crimson stumps, making my stomach churn and knees buckle.

What was worse were his eyes though.

His eyes, though wide in surprise, were dull and lackluster-nothing like Miles' usual fiery gaze.

He had the eyes of a dead man, and he was looking at me like I was some kind of monster.

That is what broke me.

"I..I'm…so.. sorry.." My voice was like bubbling acid against my larynx and that fact that I was crying didn't help, but this needed to be said. Now that I've seen what this place has done to my husband. "I'm so..sorry..I couldn't…protect..you,..Miles-"

A pair warm, familiar hands reached out and cupped my face, silencing my blubbering instantly.

I gazed up to find Miles gawking at me, a swirling storm replacing that dead gleam in his eyes.

Then, like I was made of glass, he gently pulled me in his arms and laid his face against my neck.

"Miles..?" I croaked, immediately reciprocating the gesture, closing my eyes in euphoria.

'This touch….Oh how I've missed it…!'

He said nothing, just held me with a feather-like touch.

Then, slowly…tremors began to shake his body, and my husband's tears streamed down my neck.

"What have I done to you?" His voice quivered. "Fuck..what have I done to you?!"

Tears sprung to my eyes once more, and I yanked him closer, ignoring my body's screams in protest.

'No! This isn't your fault! Please don't blame yourself! **Please! **'

So, there stood the two of us, reunited at last.

But no kisses were shared.

No screams of joy and happiness were exchanged.

There was nothing beautiful about it.

Just tears of anguish and the lingering aura of remorse.

* * *

(Miles)

When I imagined finding Young-ja at long last, I expected to see her safe and sound.

Maybe with a few scraps here and there from tripping over herself, but completely unharmed overall.

Yet, here she stood, her entire body smothered in bruises, gashes, and blood. The only thing covering her body was a tattered piece of cloth and her neck was shredded to fucking pieces.

And…**Fucking hell…**

I covered my mouth and braced myself against the metal wall behind me, trying to process what I was seeing.

Her arm…was gone.

**HER FUCKING ARM WAS GONE**

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to destroy everything in sight.

I wanted to slaughter whatever did this to Young-ja.

My fingers curled into fists, and my nails drew blood as I beheld my wife's state once more.

Someone had beaten her body until it was plastered in black bruises.

Someone had sawed at her neck until her muscles were barely visible.

Someone had ripped her arm off her body.

Someone had taken her clothes and-.

I couldn't finish that thought.

It was too painful to think about.

Then, breaking through the hurricane ripping through my mind, came Young-ja's voice.

Her once soft, sweet voice was now but a faint, raspy whisper.

And do you know what she did?

She apologized.

She apologized for not protecting me.

**SHE FUCKING APOLOGIZED FOR NOT PROTECTING ME!**

I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and demanded that she shut her mouth. Young-ja wouldn't have come here if I had called like I promised.

If I didn't get knocked out by that priest!

**If I didn't come here in the first place!**

Here she was, beaten to a bloody pulp and crying her eyes out for my sake.

Young-ja came to Mount Massive…**for me**.

**FOR ME.**

'No, it's my fault." I reached out to cup her face and wipe her tears away, my breath hitching in my throat as she looked up at me. 'It's **my fault** you are here.'

How could I even touch her? What gave me the right after what she's been through?

And how could she even apologize to me when she was worse off?!

I wanted to embrace her with all my might, to let her know I was here, to kiss her breathless and beg her forgiveness.

But I was afraid she would shatter, and I felt I'd done enough damage, so I laid my head against her neck.

And as my cheek touched her tattered skin, I lost it.

"What have I done to you?" I whimpered, damning Murkoff, God, and myself for the torture Young-ja had endured for my sake.

**All for my sake.**

"Fuck…what have I done to you?!" I wailed, the smell of her blood invading my senses and causing bile to rise up my throat.

And do you know what she did as I cried my fucking eyes out?

She held me with all her might and said, "It's not….your fault."

"**How the fuck is this not my fault?!" **I bellowed, striking the wall behind her. "**You would be safe at home if I didn't come here!** **You would have both of your fucking arms if I didn't come here!**"

But she just smiled, and my heart shattered as she reached up and caressed my face.

"We've….found each other, and….you are alive." Young-ja sniffed, wiping my tears away. "That's….all that matters now."

"…..You idiot." I whimpered, resting my forehead against hers. "You big, fucking idiot…"

Young-ja continued to smile, hoping to reassure me, but it did nothing but tear me apart.

"Nothing else will happen to you. I promise to protect you with every ounce of my being." I cradled her in my arms, still petrified of hurting her. "No one will lay a hand on you. Not anymore."

Young-ja said nothing, just stroked my cheek before lightly kissing me on the lips.

Oh, I'd forgotten how her kisses vanquished all my fears and made this screwed up world seem alright for a moment.

And I could still feel how much she loves me, even though my stupid ambition has dragged her through Hell and back, she still loves me.

'I'm going to get you out of here.' I vowed, clinging to her desperately. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you.'

Slowly, we pulled away and Young-ja reached out to open the locker door.

"Let's..go..Miles. Ae-cha is…waiting for us."

I nodded, took her hand in mine, and we waltzed out of the abandoned bathroom, ready to escape this hellhole.

**Together.**

**A/N: I really tortured Miles in this chapter. *punches self* He loves Young-ja and knowing she came here for him is tearing him apart. And she really did have it worse off then him up until this moment. And Young-ja is just happy Miles is here, and she said she didn't care what happened to her as long as Miles was safe. So that is why she is so calm-ish. My bbys! *holds them* But they are together now and I hope things work out! Not very reassuring from the author. Lol. The confrontation with Trager is in the next chapter, and Miles will find out Trager's involvement with Young-ja's condition. Ooooh, Miles is gonna be pissed, to say the least!**

**Look forward to the next chapter! And Happy Halloween! **


	45. An Eye for an Eye

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and love! I'm so happy to read them! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**I welcome all and every reader! New and Old!**

**Please enjoy!**

(Miles)

Once we were back out in the hallway, I glanced over at Young-ja.

She had a death grip on my hand, like she was afraid I would vanish if she didn't hold on tight.

As if that would happen.

She walked with a limp and was so horribly beaten that I wondered how she was still moving at all.

I peered down at her feet and noticed that her shoes were missing and her feet were covered in lacerations.

Without saying a word, I scooped her up in my arms and grimaced at how light she was.

'Even a tiny breeze would blow her away…'

"I can walk, Mi-Ah!" She winched, hand going to her ripped up throat.

"Shut up, Short Stack." The taste of her old nickname was Heaven to my tongue. "I told you I would protect you now, so let me." I sighed before giving her a quick peck on the lips. "Besides, I want to hold you for a bit."

She smiled up at me and nodded, a faint red glow on her cheeks.

The sight of her blushing after so long made my chest constrict and I had to avert my eyes.

"…Besides," I mumbled, trekking down the empty hallway "you look like shit."

Young-ja scowled at me for a moment before closing her eyes and resting her head against my shoulder.

I stared down at her, noting how paper thin her skin seemed in the dim florescent lights. And how tiny and worn out she looked due to all the blood loss.

'How could such a small person lose so much blood?'

But, I didn't dwell on that for long.

Not when something else caught my attention.

Now that she was in my arms, her 'dress' had shifted up and I could clearly make out, underneath the thick layer of lacerations and bruises, faint bite marks on her thighs.

That burning sensation bubbled up once again, and the urge to tear the fucker to shreds increased tenfold. It continued to grow when I noticed, like her neck, her wrist had rope indentations, and all I could see was Young-ja tied up somewhere, screaming and crying while someone did this to her.

As I continued to inspect her body, I noticed something that made my heart freeze. Her neck, wrists, cuts, and bruises were in various stages of healing.

She…had been attacked more than once.

As the thought registered in my head, my blood turned cold and I felt like going on a killing spree.

"….Are the bastards who did this to you still breathing?" The words suddenly coming out of my mouth.

Young-ja stiffened in my arms and her skin became stark white.

"Youn-."

"No," She spat out, turning away from me. "No… no more talking, Miles. Please."

"Bu-."

"**NO!"**A raspy scream echoed down the hallway, causing me to jump up in fright. Following the outburst, Young-ja covered her throat as tears and shivers racked her body. "Please…don't…make me….remember…Please…"

I immediately fell to my knees and cradled her in my arms, my heart shattering with every sob she let out.

"Shhh…I'm here, Young-ja." I ran my fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her as she did for me. "You're safe now, love. No one will hurt you anymore." As I drew some hair away from her face, I finally got a good look at her missing arm.

And I noticed there were tubes and some type of patient drip jutting from her stump.

The sight of the contraption reminded me of a certain doctor, and I felt my stomach flip.

"Young-ja," I reached out to cup her cheek, my hands shaking. "Is tha-?"

"**Buddy!**" A shout boomed off the walls, and I whirled around to find Trager standing at the end of the hallway. "I thought I heard you screaming, and here you are! I've been looking all over for you! You're a slippery little fucker for giving me the slip so easily." He laughed and trudged towards us, tapping his big ass bone shears against the wall with every step. "Oh! And what's this?" Trager tilted his head and leered at Young-ja, who had a death grip on my jacket. "Stumpy! Didn't I tell you to stay put? Yesh, woman really are terrible listeners.."

"….Stumpy?" I repeated, eyes locked onto the contraption on Trager's arm and his words from before zapped through my mind.

_"You a married man, Buddy?" His tone was flat, but I felt some ulterior motive underneath it that gave me the chills._

_"…..What's it to you?"_

_"Oh, nothing. Just thought a strapping man such as yourself would have a girl back home. Some cute, little thing with soft skin and big, brown eyes that drive men wild."_

My throat dried up and my vision blurred as Young-ja clung to me with all my might, her alarmed gaze solidifying my suspicions. She stared up at me, fear evident in her eyes as she subconsciously touched her neck.

Instantly, I could see her hanging from the ceiling with rope enfolding her neck as Trager beat her into a blood pulp. And she…couldn't….scream…

My vision turned red.

All I could hear was Young-ja crying.

Begging for mercy.

**And Trager laughing at her.**

And with that, something clicked in my brain.

"Miles?" Young-ja queried, confusion etched across her face as I kissed her forehead and placed her to the side, asking her wait here.

Nearby, there was a small pile of rubble and I reached out towards it, my fingers tingling.

"Say, Trager," I started, standing up with my back to Trager and a charred piece of concrete in my hand. "You mentioned golf scores a while ago. Would you happen to be a golf enthusiast?"

"….Yeah." Trager replied, his tone on guard. "I was the best in the entire Science Division."

"**Then try and hit this.**" I whirled around and jammed the shard into Trager's monocle, sending him to the ground screaming in agony. "**Doesn't feel so nice on the other end, huh?!**" I climbed on top of the piece of shit and pummeled his gaunt face over and over, finding this morbid pleasure in the pain shooting up my knuckles.

With every strike, I let out all my fury at what he did to his patients, to me, and especially to Young-ja.

Even as his bones crunched under my assault and his blood caked my knuckles, it wasn't enough.

I needed to do more.

It was like my mind had separated from my body, and I could only watch as my body acted on its own.

Trager's face was nothing but a puddle of blood now.

And I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Let me tell you something you should know. There are three important women in my life, Trager." I stood up, shoving my hands into my jean pockets and watched his bare chest weakly rise and fall. "First, my mother." I placed the heel of my boot on his sternum. "Second, my daughter." Followed by the sole. "And third, my wife. I promised myself that if someone ever hurt them, I'd kick the bastard's face in. And, as you can see, you've done quite a number on my wife." I smiled and leaned down, hands still in my pockets. "**So you leave me no choice but to** **break every single fucking bone in your miserable body**."

And with that, I placed my entire weight on my foot and dug it into his sternum, the sound of bone cracking music to my ears.

Trager's screams were just the icing on the cake.

"…Y'know, I've dealt with a shit ton of corporate bastards like you, claiming everything you do is for business and that it was nothing personal. You probably go to bed each night in your stately mansion without giving a second thought to the lives you've ruined." I took my other foot and rammed it against his throat. "Go anything to say about that, Mr. Executive?"

Trager gurgled something, causing blood to splatter across my face.

"I'm sorry. Can't hear you very well." I jammed my heel against his throat. "**Care to repeat that?**"

"I..said.." Trager spat out, that shit eating smirk on his face. "It was a shame you came so soon. Stumpy's uterus would've made a killin-."

I snatched the concrete slab off the floor and smashed it against his face before he could finish.

All was silent after that.

My heart raced in my ears as I panted furiously, leering down at Trager's limp body.

"Go fuck yourself." I mumbled, kicking his head before turning around.

"Miles.." Young-ja called out, unsteadily crawling to her feet and reaching out for me.

I quickly went to her side and steadied her. She gazed up at me with a worried expression, and I could see my blood soaked face reflected in her eyes.

At that moment, I looked and felt no different than the other murderous Variants roaming the asylum.

But…I couldn't find it in me to care.

I was snapped out of my trace when I felt something caress my face. I blinked to see Young-ja wiping the blood off with the edge of her dress, a gentle smile on her face.

"Blood...doesn't…suit you." She whispered, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"It doesn't suit you either." I replied, leaning into her touch for a moment before leaning down and scooping her up once more. "C'mon, we need to find the exit."

Young-ja gazed back at Trager's body for a moment before nodding, an uneasy gleam in her eyes.

"…Right.."

* * *

After trekking through a few more hallways and crawling through an air vent, we finally found the elevator key in the Male Ward office.

"We're almost there, Young-ja." I said, tearing down the hallway at breakneck speed, the key secured in my jacket pocket. "Just a little while longer and we'll be free."

Young-ja nodded with a small smile on her face, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

Eventually the damn elevator came into sight, and I let out a sigh of relief. Rushing inside the metal cage, I placed Young-ja against the wall before jamming the key into the hole and turning it. The elevator whirled to life and it slowly descended.

…..I never push a button though.

Without thinking, I pushed Young-ja behind me, just as Trager came into view.

That fucker was still alive!

The blood gushing from his face and the broken monocle only made him ten times as frightening.

"**I'm not giving up on you!**" He shouted, yanking the metal gate aside and charging forward, shears in hand.

"Fuck!" I grunted, catching his arm and shoved him back with all my might. "**Just die already!**"

I pushed him out of the elevator, but he kept pushing back, even as the elevator continued descending.

Then, I had an idea.

I grasped his arms and yanked him back inside, trapping his body between the previous floor and elevator head.

Now with only his torso in the elevator, Trager wildly slashed the shears about, and Young-ja jerked me backwards just as the tip of the blade nicked my cheek.

Both of us slid to the ground and watched Trager let out a pathetic scream as his bones and organs were compressed into dust. The shears slipped out of his grip, falling through a crack between the floor, and his body slumped forward.

And all was silent once more.

Richard Trager was finally dead.

Blood dripped down his back from his severed abdomen and onto the elevator floor, tapping against the metal rhythmically.

As blood slowly began to accumulate into a puddle, a thought crossed my mind and I couldn't help but crack a smile at it:

**How to make Trager juice**

**Step 1: Squeeze**

I peeked over at Young-ja, a blank expression on her face as she stared at Trager's corpse. But, faintly, I could make out a tiny smile on her lips and that was all that mattered.

Suddenly feeling drained, I slumped against Young-ja and buried my face in her hair, and for a while, we just sat there.

Listening to Trager's blood drip onto the metal floor.

**Drip.**

**Drip.**

**Drip.**

* * *

**A/N: This chapter is the epitome of the saying "Good people are capable of terrible things if pushed far enough" Trager pushed Miles, and he re payed the deed in full. So~ onto the the next part of the asylum! And yes, Young-ja is still haunted by what Gluskin and The Walrider did to her. Now that Miles is with her, she is able to let go a little, which means all of her trials are flooding her brain once more. And someone asked how to pronounce her name. It is pronounced "Yeong-ja" and means "prosperity" and "eternal". Like Miles' name comes from the saying, "Miles up shore without a paddle", Young-ja Upshur's name could mean "Prosperity up shore" which is good, or "Eternally up shore" which is not so good. Lol. Look forward to the next chapter! **


	46. Better Days

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and love! I hope my story continues to please you! And professorprowriting! Your review made me laugh so hard! Yeah, Miles! Toughen up! Lol. Now I just imagine Miles and Waylon moaning over their injuries and Young-ja just walking in, pointing to her missing arm, and walking out. **

**Welcome all readers and every reader! New and Old!**

"_Are you sure it was a good idea for us to leave Ae-cha at your parents'?" I asked for the third time in the past fifteen minutes, peering over at my husband in the driver's seat. _

_He gave me an over-the-top sigh and dramatically turned towards me._

"_Nah. My parents are probably sacrificing her to The Biscione as we speak. Didn't I tell you my parents practiced witchcraft?"_

"_Oh shut up." I leaned over and pinched his nose. "I'm just worried! Kamal and Sophia came back from Dubai yesterday and they must be exhausted and Ae-cha is only two months old and she might wear them down an-."_

"_If you say 'and' one more time, I'm not buying you __**any**__ funnel cake and you'll have to watch me eat it all."_

_I stared at Miles with an unamused gaze, tempted to pinch his nose once more._

"…_.Why did I marry you again?"_

"_Because you love me and I love you." He smirked and quickly pecked me on the cheek. "Now, chill out and enjoy our first date night in a while."_

"_Why the fair though?"_

"_Because the Kansas City Fair is freaking legit, Short Stack."_

"_What 28 year old man says 'freaking legit'?"_

"_The love of your life, that's who. Now, Ae-cha is fine, my parents are fine, and you are looking fine, so let's go and have fun!"_

"…_.Fine, but that funnel cake better be delicious!"_

"_It'll be the best 760 calories you stuff down your windpipe! I guarantee it!"_

* * *

_The fairgrounds were bustling with activity and excitement. There were volunteers passing out maps, parents running after their kids, kids running away from their parents, teenagers daring each other to go on rides, etc., etc. _

"_Alright, Short Stack!" Miles slid up next to me, tickets in hand and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "What shall we go on first?"_

"_Ummmm…"I scanned the fairgrounds, putting imaginary x's and o's on rides. "Not any of the roller coasters."_

"_What's that? __**You want to go on a roller coaster**__?" Miles gave me a sneaky look before dragging me away. "Roger that! Then let's go on the __**biggest**__ one!"_

"_**아니**__**!**__"__I screamed, flailing in his arms and drawing the attention of passerbys. "__**아니**__**!**__"_

"_You can say 'No!' all you want, Short Stack. But I can see the excitement in your eyes!" He laughed, handing the ride operator our tickets and pushing me towards the front cart._

"_**MILESS**__!" I screeched as I was locked into place on the cart and the ride slowly roared to life. "__**I WANT A DIVORCE**__!"_

* * *

"_Now," Miles sighed, a pleased smile on his face as the cart creaked to a stop three minutes later. "That wasn't so bad, right?"_

_I was too busy being glued to the safety bar and mentally writing my will to answer him._

'_So many loops….so many drops…..so…many….flies….in my mouth…'_

"_Miles…" I whispered, reaching out and taking a fistful of his t-shirt. "Here's the deal. You will take me to the funnel cake stand and buy me the biggest plate. Then, we will walk around in peace and I won't kill you with my bare hands. Alright?"_

"_Sounds like a plan, Cara Mia." Miles laughed, helping me out of the cart and leading me to the concession stands. "Hey, in addition to the funnel cake, I'll take you by the vendors and buy you anything you want."_

"_Just hurry up and buy my funnel cake, you twit." I growled, my legs still wobbling like Jell-O._

_After Miles purchased the fried delicacy, I sped walked ahead of him while stuffing my face and still majorly pissed off._

"_Short Stack!" He laughed, running after me. "Wait up!"_

"_Nope!" I picked up speed, a cloud of dust forming behind me. "I don't walk with betrayers!"_

"_But roller coasters are so much fun!"_

_I peeked behind me and saw he wasn't even breaking a sweat scurrying after me._

_Damn his long legs!_

"_They're not fun for me!"_

"_I know that! I just wanted a reason for you to hold me!"_

_I screeched to a stop and Miles nearly tripped over me, his chest hitting the back of my head._

"…_You took me on that death trap," I whirled around on my heel and jabbed my sugar coated finger in his face. "Just so I would hold you?"_

"_Yeah?" He held his hands out. "Both of us have been busy with Cheerio and work, and it's been a while since it has been the two of us so…." He got this sheepish look on his face. "I'm sorry, Young-ja. Please forgive me."_

_I glared up at him, trying to remain angry but my cheeks were turning pink at his adorable expression so I gave up the guise._

"_You're such a cheese ball, Miles." I sighed, slumping my shoulders in defeat._

"_Does that mean I'm forgiven?" He chuckled, licking the sugar off my finger and giving me his bedroom eyes._

"_**Oh God, Miles**__!" I squeaked, snatching my finger away. "__**We're in public**__!" I stomped away while Miles laughed and trailed after me. "And I'm only forgiving you because you're blocking the sun out, you Venti Caramel Frappuccino!"_

"_Venti Cara-?!" He was laughing too hard to finish, bending over and clutching his stomach. "Ah, Cara Mia! You've learned the art of food nicknames! I'm so proud!"_

"_**It's not supposed to be funny**__!" I cried, stuffing the rest of the funnel cake into my mouth. "I'm going to find a napkin! You can continue laughing yourself into a coma for all I care!"_

"_W-Wait..!" Miles breathed, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'll come with you." He was still grinning widely as he held out his hand, wiggling his fingers for mine._

_I leered at it for a moment before reaching out too._

_But instead of taking his hand, I grabbed his shirt and rubbed my face against it._

"_There." I released the cloth, pointing to the powdered sugar smears. "No need for a napkin now."_

_Miles just stared down at his shirt, still smiling like an idiot._

"…_..Am I __**completely**__ forgiven now?"_

"_Oh hush, Miles!"_

* * *

_Five minutes later, we were strolling through the vendors' area hand in hand. Miles kept nudging his knuckles against mine and making those sad puppy noises, so eventually I gave in and held his hand feeling more like his mom than wife._

_Even though I've grown a bit since our college years, it still felt like I was walking with a redwood and I sighed in annoyance._

_But I still love him, despite how outrageous he can be at times._

_I peeked over at his shirt and felt a pang of guilt at the dry sugar stain._

'_Maybe I went too far…'_

"_Hey, may I see your shirt?" I tugged at his hand, pulling him to a stop and pointing to a water fountain. "I want to clean the sugar off it."_

_Now, the stain was at the bottom of his shirt, so I was just going to run that part underwater and be done with it. _

_But, obviously that wasn't what Miles was thinking and so I wasn't really surprised when he simply took his shirt off and handed it to me. _

_I buried my face in his soiled shirt and silently screamed as Miles slipped his hands into his pockets and stared down at me with a confused expression._

_Like he had no idea why I was freaking out._

_But I knew better._

"_ What are you doing?!" I hissed, my face tomato red._

"_Just doing what you asked." He replied in an innocent tone. "I handed you my shirt."_

_In my peripheral vision, I could see people blushing, giggling behind their hands, or snapping pictures on their phones. And Miles had to make matters worse by smiling at his admirers._

_My face became red for a different reason and I shoved the t-shirt back in Miles' arms._

"_Nevermind. I'll wash it when we get back to your parents' house. Say goodbye to your fans."_

"_Ah, Short Stack." Miles sighed, slipping his shirt back on before lifting me up in his arms suddenly. "There is no need to be jealous. You are the one for me."_

"_Meehhhnnnn." I grumbled under my breath. "You just enjoy getting a reaction out of me, don't you?"_

"_That I do." He laughed before giving me a big kiss on the cheek._

* * *

_Eventually, after browsing some stands and stuffing our faces with heart clogging sweets, we ended up back in the ride area and the carousel immediately caught my eye. _

_Truth be told, I've never been a huge fan of rides, but the carousel always held a special place in my heart._

"_Miles!" I squealed, pointing to the ride and jumping up and down. "Let's get on!"_

"_As you wish!" Miles smiled before scooping me up and racing towards the growing line._

_The operator took our tickets and we scrambled onto the circular platform. I was bouncing in excitement, and Miles was doing to same but just to copy me._

"_I'm getting on this one." I scurried toward a stallion with a blue mane and pink saddle only to be lifted up and placed side saddle by Miles, who hopped on behind me._

"_I'll get on it too." He grinned, placing one hand on my waist and the other on the pole as the ride started up._

_I considered telling him it was against the ride policy to have two people on one horse, but I just shook my head and laughed._

"_Then let's us ride off into the sunset!" I shouted, pointing to the sky and Miles pumped his fists and gave a "Hell yeah!" in reply._

_The other riders weren't very amused so we quieted down and enjoyed the ride in silence, biting our lips to hold back the laughter._

_We ended up riding the carousel seven more times until the operator kicked us off._

* * *

_Hours passed as we went on several more rides, played some games, won a Moomin for Ae-cha, and ate our weight in fried Oreo's. Soon it was almost midnight and the rides were starting to shut down for the fireworks show._

"_C'mon, Miles." I pulled him towards the pond near the clock tower. "Let's watch the fireworks over there!"_

"_Not yet! There is one more ride I want to go on!" He whined, pulling me back towards the rides._

"_We can go on it after the fireworks!"_

"_It won't be long! Please~!" He got down on his knees and batted his eyelashes at me. "Pleeease~!"_

"_Alright. One, never do that again. Two, let's make it quick."_

"_Sweet!" Miles hopped back on his feet and flew down the street, leaving me struggling to keep up with his speed._

"_What ride do you want to go on anyways?" I called out._

"_This one!" He halted to a stop and pointed to the ride in front of us._

_A Ferris wheel shone before the two of us, flashing a kaleidoscope of colors and blinding me the longer I stared at it. And, for some reason, I had a sense of déjà vu. _

"_C'mon!" Miles pulled me up the stairs before I could dwell on it any longer. "Go ahead and pick a gondola. I'll give the operator our tickets."_

_I nodded and did as he requested, noticing we were the only ones getting on the ride._

'_This seems familiar…..'_

"_Alright!" Miles cheered, sliding in next to me and locking the gate behind him. "Enjoy the ride, Short Stack!"_

_The operator waved at us before flipping a switch and the ride was off. I closed my eyes and leaned against Miles as the cold summer wind ran through my hair and the frantic chatter of the fair below seemed to fade away._

_Then, as we reached the top once again, the ride stopped._

"_Eh?" I scooted away from Miles and peered over the edge of the gondola, spotting the ride operator turn the lights off and walk away. "H-Hey! He forgot us!"_

"_He did?" Miles asked, zero concern evident in his tone as he reclined back and placed both of his arms on the edge of the ride. "Well, what can we do? Let's just enjoy the view and watch the fireworks from here." _

"_But-!" I froze as everything came back to me and slowly looked over at Miles who had the biggest smirk on his face. "…..Are you serious, Miles?"_

"_Took you long enough to figure it out! I thought you'd piece everything together the moment you saw the ride."_

"_But, how did you do it?" I scooted back over to him. "Last time was an accident, so how did the op-?"_

"_I paid him 50 bucks to get us on the ride and get lost until after the fireworks."_

_I blinked in surprised, in awe at Miles' planning. Then, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, I grasped him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down for a kiss._

"_Miles Upshur, you freaking sap." I murmured against his lips before burying my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. _

_He hummed in reply, sliding me onto his lap and resting his hands on my waist._

_Miles can be such a sneaky jerk sometimes, but he can also be a romantic cheese ball. Either way, he is my Miles and I love each bit of him to pieces._

_A sudden explosion broke us apart and the night sky became illuminated in color._

"_Wow…" I breathed, flowers of red, green, and yellow shooting across the sky. "They're so beautiful.."_

"_Yeah," Miles kissed my neck and rested his chin on my shoulder. "But do you know what those fireworks mean?"_

"_No," I smiled and kissed his nose. "Tell me."_

"_It means its midnight and a new day." He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "A __**very**__ important day." The little box was placed in my hands and I quickly opened it to find a tiny music box. It was in the shape of a pancake stack with a small heart shaped butter slab on top. _

_It was beautiful._

"_Miles..!"_

"_Push the heart button and listen."_

_I nodded and clicked the button, and the gondola was soon filled with piano music. It was a beautiful, soothing melody. Then, came Miles' voice._

_**Like the sound of silence calling,**_

_**I hear your voice and suddenly**_

_**I'm falling, lost in a dream.**_

_**Like the echoes of our souls are meeting,**_

_**You say those words and my heart stops beating.**_

_**I wonder what it means.**_

_**What could it be that comes over me?**_

_**At times I can't move.**_

_**At times I can hardly breathe.**_

_It's a rare thing to hear such gentleness and adoration in Miles' voice, and it was because of that, hearing and being the recipient made it all the more special._

_His deep, soothing voice made me chest flutter and I covered my mouth and cried tears of happiness at the wonderful birthday present in my hands._

"_You've improved since you've last sung to me." I sniffed, wiping my eyes._

"_Well, the last time I sung to you was ten years ago, so I hope I've improved."_

_I giggled and snuggled against his chest, listening to rest of the song as the fireworks surrounded us._

"_자기야 생일 축하해__.*" He whispered, his pronunciation flawless._

"_Grazie, amore mio." I replied, cupping his face in my hands._

_For the one moment, everything was beautiful. It was like I was on a cloud surrounded by-._

_Suddenly, I was knocked out of La~La~Land when Miles kicked the adjacent seat and covered his mouth, a dark blush coating his cheeks._

"_What the heck was that?" I laughed._

"_I needed to kick something to feel manly again." He mumbled._

_I snorted and buried my face into his neck, my body shaking with laughter as the song end._

'_Somethings never change, I suppose.'_

_And I hoped Miles would never change._

_No, he is perfect the way he is._

_And I will love him until the day I die._

* * *

"Young-ja, Young-ja, wake up." Miles' steady voice shook me awake, and I looked around in confusion before rubbing my eyes.

"Oh…I'm…sorry." I whispered, my throat burning with every syllable. "I…didn't mean…to fall asleep."

The music box is on my vanity back at the house. I would to play it every night Miles wasn't there and sometime used it as a lullaby for Ae-cha. I tried to show it his parents' once but he tackled me from the side and begged me to spare him the shame.

What I wouldn't give for the two of us to be back home.

"It's fine." He gave me a small smile and helped me to my feet. "We need to get out of here though. This will be our exit." He pointed to the open elevator louver above us before scooping me up and helping me crawl up through the hole. Once I was situated on the elevator's roof, Miles climbed up after me. He hopped off the edge of the elevator and held his arms out. I took his hand and left him place me on the ground, but I refused to let him carry me again.

"No, Miles." I shook my head. "You…need…your..energy…"

"Young-ja, be serious. You can barely walk." He tried to lift me up, but I still wiggling out of his grip.

"**I'm…fine**." I stated firmly and I walked away from he could say another word. Trager's lower body lay on the floor, blood still squirting from his abdomen. Normally, I would shed a few tears on his behalf, but after what he put us through, I couldn't find it in me to give a damn.

I surveyed the area while Miles changed the batteries in his camcorder. Most of the doors were locked and the room was almost pitch black.

Yet, as I tried the metal door to the far left, I could make out a sign at the end of the hallway.

**Vocational Block**

Memories of that creature chasing after me, ripping our wedding photo to shreds, and tying me up flood my brain and my knees almost buckled out from under me.

'I can still feel his breath and hands on my skin…'

But, something else about the Vocational Block flashed across my mind and I felt my heart drop to my stomach.

'How could I forget….?'

"Miles…" I hobbled over to him and he immediately came to my side. "We need…to go through this door…"

"Why?" He walked over to the metal door and tried to yank it open. "Is this the way out?"

"No….we have…to…rescue someone."

"Rescue someone?" He had an incredulous look on his face. "Who would that be?"

"Waylon Park."

"Waylon Park?" Miles paused, thinking hard about something. "…Is he an employee or something?"

I didn't know how he was going to react to this, but I made to promise to Waylon that I would come back for him when I found my husband.

"Miles," I grasped the lapel of his jacket and forced him to look me in the eye, needing him to understand how serious this was. "He….He is the Whistleblower."

**A/N: I had to brush my teeth after writing that flashback. So cheesy and sweet! Lol. But I figured it was time for another flashback before more pain and suffering happen. **

***"Happy Birthday, Honey."**

**I always like to imagine Miles and Young-ja trying to teach other their native language. And the song Miles sings for Young-ja is "When You Say You Love Me" by Josh Groban. I know he is not everyone's cup of tea, but that one song really hit my heartstrings. And Miles is such a sap for his Short Stack. He got her a pancake music box for goodness sake! **

**And I just to start this now: Songs of the Day! I will just put songs that apply to the chapter, mood, or just songs that Miles and Young-ja would rock out to in the jeep.**

**Songs of the Day: "Come Sail Away" by Styx and "When You Say You Love Me" by Josh Groban.**

**Look forward to the next chapter!**


	47. Liberation

**A/N: Thank you so much for the constant love and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**I welcome all readers, new and old!**

**Please enjoy!**

I could feel the room become ice cold as Miles' grip on the knob tightened and his jaw stiffened.

"The…Whistleblower?" He scoffed, stepping back from the door. "He is still here? Thought he would be the first to scoot before the breakout took place."

"I…I think he got…caught. When I found him,…he was wearing a patient..ju..jumpsuit." I rubbed my neck absentmindedly, the strain of forcing myself to talk finally catching up with me.

"Is that so…" Miles mumbled, walking over to one of the hospital bed and ripping off a clean part of the sheet. He came back and wrapped it around my neck, creating a make shift scarf. "There. That should help a bit." He adjusted it so it rest against my neck comfortably and kept it from getting worse. "Better?"

I smiled at the loving gesture and nodded.

"Anyways, I…I promised to come back for him…once I found you."

"What? Is he stuck inside a locker or something? ….By the way, **how did** you get separated anyways? ….Hell," Miles threw his hands back in exasperation. "**how did you** **meet** in the first place?"

"Well," I shuffled my feet against the dirt. "We….originally met when I came back from Germany five years ago. We just….talked on the plane for a bit, and that was all. Then we met again near the Prison Ward, and we pr..promised to help each other get out after we found you. Anyways, we…ran around for a bit and ended up in the Vocational Block. Waylon fell from..the…roof, and I went to go find him. But there was-….." My voice trailed off again as my repressed memories resurfaced.

His blood soaked, leather gloves covering my mouth.

His fake, sweet words of deluded love and affection being whispered in my ear.

His vile insults and threats when I rejected his advances.

Being knocked out and tied down on that wooden table.

Him taking his knife and slicing off my clothes bit by bit.

The feeling of his hands touching my body, despite my screams and pleas for him to stop.

And…him tearing our wedding photo into pieces…right before my eyes.

"_You're nothing but a whore." He sneered. "You should be happy to have a husband like me. Oh, such soft skin…"_

I didn't realize I was shaking until Miles placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Youn-?"

"**DON'T TOUCH ME!**" I smacked his hand away and reeled away from his touch. "**I'M NOT YOUR WIFE!**"

Miles instantly stepped back, a look of utter shock and heartbreak etched across his face.

"What….?"

My heart dropped to the floor as I realized what I've done, and ashamed, I averted my eyes.

"I…I'm sorry, Miles. I was just….remembering something."

He nodded slowly, but didn't say anything.

The room went dead silent, and when I looked back at him, I could tell Miles wanted to hold me but didn't want to upset me again.

Biting my lip, I slowly held my arm out, and I was in his arms before I could blink.

"…Young-ja-."

"There's a man—**a creature**—in the Vocational Block." I mumbled against his jacket. "He..captures the patients and mutilates them into his ideal bride before murdering them. Waylon was…caught and he is unconscious in one of the lockers."

Miles' grip on me tightened when I mentioned the words 'ideal bride'.

"…Did…he catch you too?"

My silence spoke volumes, and I could sense the fury bubbling up inside Miles.

"How did you esc-?"

"We don't have time for questions now, Miles." I cut him off, trying to repress what happened in the hallway. "We need to save Waylon now."

"But…Young-ja." He pulled away and looked me straight in the eye. "Who's….who's to say Park isn't dead already? What if this bastard already got to him?"

"Then…I will pry his dead body from that monster's hands and bring him home to this family." I shot back, my gaze unwavering. "We are not the only ones with a child waiting at home…"

"….How many does he have?"

"Two boys. One named Owen and another named Nick. He also has a wife named Lisa. All three of them are waiting for his return….just like how Ae-cha and Annie are waiting for ours."

Miles closed his eyes for a moment, mulling something over in his head before nodding.

"Alright, let's go get him."

* * *

After scouring the room, Miles was able to locate a pry bar inside the emergency kit in the elevator; he also made sure to dig his heel into Trager's body while climbing out.

"This should pop that damn door open quite nicely." He hummed before jamming it into the space between the panel and jamb.

"Let me help." I scurried forward and pushed against the bar alongside him.

"It's fine, Young-ja." Miles grunted. "You're already in enough pain-."

"Oh shut up, Miles." I grumbled, pushing harder. "Just because….I'm missing an arm doesn't mean I'm obsolete. Now push."

He was silent for a moment before his laughter echoed throughout the room.

"Damn, I love you."

* * *

A few more grunts and swears later, the lock eventually gave and the door popped open.

"Finally!" Miles vocalized, taking my hand in his while holding the bar in the other. "Let's go get Park and get the fuck out of here."

"Why…why are you still holding the pry bar?"

"So I can bash in that fucker's brains for laying his hands on you. Then I'll pass it to Park so he can have a go if he wishes."

"No, Miles." I shook my head rapidly. "It is…best if we just grab Waylon and go. I've had enough of this place…"

Heaving a sigh, he leaned down and kissed me gently before nodding.

"….Alright. Let's be quick then."

And so the two of us dashed through the door and down the dark hallway.

'Just hold on Waylon! We've coming! Please don't be dead. **Please don't be dead!**"

* * *

The hallway was pitch black, and if it wasn't for Miles' camcorder, we would've tripped over dead bodies left and right. Some of the windows in the hallways were broken, causing an icy breeze to filter through. I huddled closer to Miles and was thankful of the scarf he made me.

It was dark outside, and I had no idea for it was night or day. I didn't even know how long we'd been in the asylum; it felt like forever to be honest. I could make out Father Martin's chapel in the distance, but just the sight of it left a bad taste in my mouth and I had to turn away.

"What…do you think Ae-cha is doing?" I whispered, my rings catching the moonlight and reminding me of the promises we made her.

"Probably glued to Ms. Johnson's porch, waiting for us to come get her."

Miles' tone was nonchalant, but after twelve years of knowing him, I could see the worry hidden in it easily. I tightened my grip and rubbed my thumb against his knuckles, making sure to avoid his nubs.

"When we get home, let's spoil her rotten." I rested my head against his shoulder, thinking of our beautiful, little girl. "We can take her to the toy story and let her go wild, maybe hire that one chocolatier and commission him to make a huge cake with lots of sprinkles for her."

"I'll do you one better." Miles replied. "Why don't I stop with the investigative journalism life and take my girls on a trip around the world?"

"**Stop being a journalist?**" I laughed, peering up at him. "Are you sure? You said you'd dedicate your life to being the 'unsung hero'."

"That was before I found someone else to dedicate my life too." He graced me with another kiss. "Besides, this place has killed the urge to be an 'unsung hero', so let's just run away from it all for a while. Just the four of us."

"….Sounds lovely." I sighed, praying to whoever was up there that we'd both survive and make it home to our baby.

Soon, we reached the entrance to the Vocational Block, finding this door was also locked. Jamming the pry bar into the slit once more, we were able to bust the lock open and gain access to the building.

Upon walking into the hallway, the smell of rotting flesh invaded our senses and the two of us gagged and covered our mouths.

"What…the fuck…is that?" Miles groaned, reaching out to pull the scarf over my mouth before pulling me away from the source of the foul stench. "C'mon, I think I see the exit up ahead."

The doors lead out to a tiny courtyard with cobblestone pathways and dead shrubs. I glanced up at the adjacent building and could see the exact same window I was thrown out of just a few hours prior. My skin prickled at the thought, but I pushed it aside for Waylon's sake.

"That window leads to the monster's lair." I pointed up to the third story window with shattered glass. "If…we could...find a stepladder,…maybe we could…climb up."

"Where could be find a stepla-." Miles froze up as we heard screams in the distance.

"Get back here, you whore!" One voice howled.

"Fuck off, Gluskin!" screamed another.

Gradually, the voices grew louder and louder until they were right above us.

Then there was dead silence.

In unison, Miles and I stared at each other before slowly looking up at the third story window.

Only to see a large projectile flying straight towards us.

"Oh shi-!"

***BAM***

* * *

(Waylon)

My heart was pounding in my ears, still trying to catch my body up with my mind.

'I was so close to become one of Gluskin's brides. **So close!**'

I sent a silent thank you to the man who distracted him long enough for me to escape from my bindings, pull my clothes back on, and run for my life.

It didn't help matters that the nerves in my heel were horribly damaged from my fall, but I still pressed forward with everything I had.

'Still intact. I'm here, Lisa. I'm still me. He... He tried to make me his bride. To cut me. Maybe I was wrong. Telling the world would only draw it here. Should this place just die and fester here? I won't tell the world if it means spreading the infection. Let it die alone, let it rot.'

Perhaps that was for the best, but I could care less now.

I just wanted to have Lisa and the boys back in my arms.

"You could have been beautiful!" Gluskin bellowed, hot on my heels. "**WE** could've been beautiful!"

I had no idea where I was going, but if it was away from Gluskin, then I would be fine.

Then, like a gift sent from Heaven, I spotted an open window at the end of the corridor.

Mustering up all the strength in my body, I sprinted forward, ignoring the blistering pain in my heel.

"Get back here, you whore!"

"Fuck off, Gluskin!" I screamed back before launching myself out the window.

Now, I realize that probably wasn't the smartest move, but breaking a few bones from a free fall was a hell of a lot better than what Gluskin had to offer.

But to my surprise, instead of slamming into harsh concrete, my fall was cushioned by two soft pillows.

Two soft pillows….that screamed "Oh shi-!" before I landed on them.

Shaking the blurs out of my vision, I turned on my camcorder to inspect what cushioned my fall.

Only to find Young-ja Upshur and a very pissed off man lying beneath me.

"What the-?" I gasped. "Young-ja?!"

"Nice…to see you too, Waylon." She groaned, a weak smile on her face. "How considerate of you to **drop in**."

"For fuck's sake, Short Stack." The man, whom I quickly recognized as Miles Upshur, groaned before pushing me off him. "And, Park! Couldn't you have given us a freaking heads up?! We're not bowling pins!"

I was in too much shock to reply, staring at the couple in front of me.

'She kept her promise. Young-ja actually came back for me…!'

"C'mon, Waylon." Young-ja smiled, holding her hand out to me. "Let's go ho-Ah!"

I gathered them into my arms, earning a squeak from Young-ja and a "What the hell?" from Miles.

"Waylon, wha-?"

"You came back for me," I sniffed, my chest light as air. "**You actually came back for me.**"

* * *

**A/N: It's raining men!**

**Hallelujah!**

**Lol.**

**The idea for Waylon to jump out of the window and scaring Miles and Young-ja was all silkyterrier34's idea! I just tweaked it a bit. Originally, I was just going to have them rescue Waylon while he was still tied up, but I liked silkyterrier34's idea better! And I changed my Waylon's sons names to Owen and Nick, which are the names of silkyterrier34's Waylon's kids. I love their story and that was my little way of showing my love and appreciation! Please check out their story! It is brilliant!**

**Anyways, this is only deviation from canon my story will take. I just wanted Miles and Waylon to meet and adventure together because that never happened in the game! *cries***

**And Waylon is just so happy Young-ja came for him since she was risking a lot coming back for him and didn't know if he was already dead or not. Another great idea inspired by silkyterrier34! **

**And the gang is back together!**

**Song of the Day: "Back in Black" by AC/DC. (of course lol.)**

**Look forward to the next chapter!**


	48. The Groom's Reception

**A/N: Thank you so much for the massive amounts of love and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**And I'm so happy you guys liked how Waylon was reunited with Young-ja! Lol!**

**I welcome all readers, new and old! Please enjoy!**

"W-Waylon!" I gasped, his grip iron tight. "Ease up!"

"Sorry." He laughed, wiping some stray tears from his eyes. "I'm just so thankful that you actually came back for me!"

"Well, save your thanks, Park." Miles stated, flicking the camcorder's night vision on. "We're not in the clear yet."

And right on cue, The Groom's voice echoed across the tiny courtyard as he leered down at us from the broken window.

"Whores! All of you! You all want to leave me? Is that it? **You want to leave me?** **FINE!" **He slammed his fists down on the window still, causing glass to come tumbling down and shatter on the cobblestone. "**GO! YOU AND THE REST OF THESE UNGRATEFUL SLUTS!"**

"Time to go." Miles and I said in unison, hoisting Waylon up and dragging him back to the building we just came from.

We hurried back to the door that lead to the connecting hallway, only to find it closed and locked once more.

"What the fuck!? How did it close?!" Miles groaned, jabbing the pry bar into the socket and pushing. "Park, don't stand there like a twit and help me out!"

Waylon immediately complied, though a little taken aback by his tone.

As the two of them tried to re-pry the door open, I heard something clatter down the hallway and knew we weren't alone.

"Guys!" I hissed, making both of them turn towards me. "We need to hide. I don't think the Groom is done with us."

Miles nodded and pulled the bar out, while Waylon kept staring at me with his mouth agape.

Now that we were inside and near light, my condition was revealed in plain sight.

"Young-ja…" He breathed out, his eyes glued to my stump. "what happ-?"

"**There is no time, Waylon!**" I cut him off, partially out of annoyance and partially out of fear. "I'll explain later, but we need to hide **right now**!"

Waylon, snapping out his daze, nodded and raced down the hallway alongside us.

That pungent odor was still in the air, and as we drew closer to a pair of double doors, the smell grew worse. They were locked, of course, so we dashed into the room on the left which appeared to be some sort of kitchen with pans and pots scattered about. The dark room had no other exit than a vent on the far right wall. The foul odor's source seemed to be on the other side of that vent, but with no other options, we had no choice but to climb in.

"Park," Miles pushed Waylon forward roughly, almost slamming him into the wall. "climb up first so I can hand Young-ja up to you, alright?"

Waylon, slightly vexed, simply nodded before hopping up into the confined space and held his arms out for me. Miles then scooped me up and handed me off to Waylon, not letting go until Waylon had a firm grip on me.

Once all of us were in the vent, we crawled forward, narrowly avoiding the corpse jutting from the ceiling. My eyes watered the closer we moved towards the exit, and it took all of my willpower not to puke up what little there was left in my stomach.

Once we reached the end, Waylon jumped out before turning back and helping me to the ground. He even did the same for Miles, thought it was kind of difficult since Miles was much taller and heavier than Waylon. It also didn't help that my dear husband wasn't being very gracious to him.

I already knew why Miles was being so crude, and I was about to pull him aside and ask him to stop.

But, before I could, I made horrible mistake.

I looked up.

The ceiling was littered with hanging corpses—all former brides of The Groom apparently. They'd been skinned to the bone and dressed in tattered wedding dresses, blood still dripping from some of the bodies.

"Fucking hell…" Miles gulped while Waylon just covered his mouth and whispered something to himself.

The sight and smell soon became too unbearable and I collapsed to my knees and hurled my guts out. Stomach acid burned my throat and my scarf was slowly becoming red from my neck lacerations re-opening. Miles immediately fell to his knees and held my hair back while I dry heaved, rubbing my back and whispering soothing words into my ear.

"He thinks the therapy made him better." Waylon suddenly blurted out, crouching down next to us with a grim gaze. "Whatever story Gluskin is telling himself, he's not making women to bear his children, **he's making women to kill them**." He pulled out a wrinkled consultation page from his jumpsuit pocket. "Found this while I was running from the bastard. His doctor said Gluskin was claiming advancement into the Morphogenic Engine, yet his therapy status plateaued at 90 PPM."

"And what does all of that mean?" Miles asked.

"Gluskin no longer has any sense of reality. Whatever those doctors' did to him ruined what little remaining shred of sanity he had left to begin with."

In the distance, the monster's voice could be heard, singing _I Want a Girl_ in an eerie tone.

"Time to scoot." Miles muttered, helping me to my feet and we dashed across the gory, gymnasium floor.

Like the rest of the building, the hallway was in shambles and pitch dark. Since the two camcorders were our only source of light, the three of us huddled together as we crept down the hallway. Miles had his arm wrapped around my waist and Waylon was holding my hand. If we weren't covered in blood and running for our lives, it would've made a cute, family picture.

_I have looked all over, but no girlie I can find, who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind. _

_I will have to look around until the right one I have found._

"Oh shut up." Miles and Waylon said in unison, and I had to bite back a giggle.

There was a light coming from a room on the left, so we race towards it as quietly as possible.

The room was arranged like a wedding chapel with a corpse standing at the altar, a veil covering his face. Something glittered in his hand, and as we moved closer to investigate, it turned out to be a key. Waylon plucked it from the 'bride's' hand and read the inscription on the key.

"Male Ward." He read aloud. "Looks like our ticket out of here."

"Let's hurry up and get back to the gate then."

We were about to head back up the aisle when a loud voice boomed across the room.

"Filthy sluts! You're all like the others!" The monster shouted, the light behind him making his shadow ten times more intimidating. "You don't deserve my children! **You don't even deserve to live!**"

"This way!" Waylon pointed to a tiny room on the right.

We hurried inside, and Miles kicked a bookshelf down to block the monster's entrance.

There was a metal cabinet blocking our exit, so we all pushed it out of the way and raced through the threshold and back out into the hallway before finding ourselves in the gymnasium once again.

Miles and Waylon practically threw me into the vent and we all crawled back to the kitchen, high on adrenaline.

"**Come on, come on!**" Waylon chanted.

My heart pounded in my ears as the locked door came into view and I wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but thought better of it.

Once we reached the door, Waylon pulled out the key and unlocked the door, but just as he turned the knob, he was slammed against the door by the monster.

"Waylon!" I shrieked, racing to his side as it raised its fists once more.

However, before the creature should make a move, Miles slid in front of us, blocking us from the monster's view and range.

"Keep your filthy hands off of them!" He growled, curling his hands into fists.

"**How dare you betray me?!**" With animal-like power, the creature shoved Miles aside before reaching out and grabbing Waylon and I by our necks. "I have done nothing but love you and this is how you repay me!"

He began to drag the two of us back towards the gymnasium, ignoring our screams and shouts.

"**Hey!**" Miles suddenly jumped on the creature's back, sending him tumbling down and thus releasing us. "Young-ja, run!"

Gasping for breath, I crawled away as quickly as possible and hid behind one of the fallen tables littering the floor.

Peeking out from behind it, I saw Miles and Waylon brawling the creature on the floor.

Unfortunately, it easily pushed them off before pinning them to the ground with his feet.

"I try and I try. And you all betray me." It pulled down an empty noose from the ceiling and wrapped it around their necks. "And you can hang like the rest of them. And since you both are so close, you can **hang together!**"

I stifled a scream as they were hoisted into the air, wriggling around and gasping for breath.

'I-I have to do something!'

Then, I noticed that part of the beam the guys are hanging from were crumbling off as they struggled.

"Hold still!" The monster snapped, yanking harder on the long rope.

**The rope!**

Dashing forward, I grabbed the edge of the rope and wrapped it around it's ankle, using my teeth to tie the knot.

"Wh-?!"

"**STRUGGLE AS HARD AS YOU CAN! BRING ALL YOUR WEIGHT DOWN!**" I screamed up at them before I was kicked in the face and throw off to the side.

"You bitch!" It spat out. "What til I-! Ah!" The rope started jerking out of his grip as the guys wiggled around more. "What are you-?! Dammit, Darling! You need to behave!"

But the guys kept struggling and the wood kept falling until….

It was like everyone was in slow motion.

The wood gave under the guys' weight, causing them to plummet to the ground.

And, just like I planned, the change in weight and the pulley on the creature's ankle shot it up into the air and impaled him on a hanging metal pipe.

But, before being impaled completely, the creature grabbed Waylon's hand and whispered something to him before the rope shot him upwards.

And…it was over.

The monster….that misogynistic bastard….was finally dead.

Hacking up a lung, Miles tore the noose from around their necks and glared up at the monster's body.

"Rest in shit, you fucker.." He coughed, before glancing down at Waylon who was leaning against him, looking like he was trying not to laugh. "Park, do I look like a fucking pillow to you? Get off of me." And he pushed Waylon away like a ragdoll, letting him flop onto the ground.

He shot a glare at Miles, rubbing his neck all the while.

"What crawled up your ass and died, Upshur? We just stared death in the eye and survived! Can't you be grateful for that at least?!"

"Psh!" Miles rolled his eyes before a look of utter panic splashed across his face. "**Young-ja! Where are you?!**"

Snapping out of my daze, I stumbled to my feet and waved at them, still slightly disoriented.

"I'm…here."

The relief was palpable in Miles' eyes and he shot up to his feet and hurried towards me, scooping me up into his arms and peppering my face with kisses.

"Are you alright?!"

"Yes," I sighed, reaching up to caress his face. "Are **you** alright though?"

"Who cares?! And what were you thinking pulling a stunt like that?! That bastard could've killed you!"

"I wasn't thinking." I smiled. "I just….knew I had to save you."

Miles looked like he was about to say something, but just closed his eyes and held me close.

"You idiot. If I sprout gray hairs early, I'm blaming you."

I chuckled lightly and pulled him down for a kiss, which he readily reciprocated.

"Don't mind me, guys." Waylon mumbled in the background, his cheeks a light pink and eyes glancing elsewhere. "Don't mind me at all."

* * *

**A/N: Third Wheel Waylon. lol. (They are my OT3 though! And when Lisa appears, it will be OT4! lol. A comment on silkyterrier34's story inspired me to write that.)**

**And Eddie Gluskin is Dead!**

**To clear up a few things, Young-ja never learned Gluskin's name and even if she did, she would continue to refer to him as an 'it' or 'creature' or 'monster'. And Young-ja is a badass! She helped to defeat Gluskin! And she is the most injured out of all of them! Fight me, Miles and Waylon! Whoooo! lol. **

**And Miles does not like Waylon! As for his reasons, i'm sure you guys can probably guess, especially if you play the games and know the outcomes. But that will come to light soon. As will Young-ja having to explain what happened to her to Waylon and Miles.**

**Now, back to the regular Outlast timeline!**

**Look forward to the next chapter!**


	49. Another Piece of the Puzzle

**A/N: Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**And please read the A/N at the bottom for important information about the next chapter!**

**Thank you so much! I welcome all readers, both new and old! Please enjoy!**

* * *

Once we helped Waylon up, the three of us hurried back to the elevator room. I noticed Waylon was limping at bit, but when I asked him about it, he just smiled and shook his head, telling me he was fine over and over.

'If you are fine, then…why is your heel bleeding?'

I wanted to push further, but the entrance to the Male Ward came into view and my mind went elsewhere.

"What happened here?" Waylon gasped as we passed through the threshold, pointing to Trager's legs that were still sticking out of the elevator.

"Oh, I was just relieving stress." Miles shrugged, changing the camcorder's batteries once again. Man, those batteries run out quickly, don't they?

Waylon's brown eyes widened slightly and he leaned over to whisper to me in Korean, "Remind me to never piss off your husband."

I gave an airy chuckle and whispered back with, "Oh please…my husband…is a huge…teddy bear."

Waylon tried to stifle his chuckles, but my smile caused him to crack.

"You two realize I can understand you right?" Miles piped up, instantly halting Waylon's laughter.

"Eep!" we squeaked in unison at my love's 'shut-the-hell-up' glare.

Miles rolled his eyes and reached out to take my hand, tugged me away from Waylon.

"According to the map back in the V. Block, we need to go through the hallway over there. If we keep following the signs, we should be back at the entrance in no time. Got it?"

"Got it, lead the way then." Waylon sighed, making sure to walk behind us as we walked through the adjacent hallway and down the dark stairway.

"Miles," I mumbled, discreetly pulling him down so I could whisper in his ear. "Stop…being mean..to…him."

"I'm not being mean to him." Miles shot back, his tone hard. "I helped drag his ass out of the V. Block and am letting him come with us. So, I'm being **very** benevolent actually."

I just glared up at him but didn't push the matter further.

The two of them will have to work it out eventually if we plan on leaving here together.

The bottom of the stairwell led to a locked door and a pile of broken desks and chairs. There were a few spare batteries jammed into the drawers, so Miles and Waylon were pretty happy about that.

"So what now?" Waylon asked, gesturing towards the stairway and locked door. "We have no way out."

"Use that college degree, Park." Miles twirled the pry bar in his hands before pointing it at the door. "Why do you think I'm carrying this? For show? No! Now shut up and help me."

Waylon glared at him for a moment before nodding.

While the two of them worked on opening the metal door, I inspected the tiny room we were in, noting how thin the wall seemed in a few places.

Could that mean….?

'Hmmm.' I started kicking wooden rubble out of the way to see if my suspicions were correct.

"Push harder, Park!"

"I can't help it if my fingers are sweaty!"

"**I have fewer fingers than you!**"

"….Point taken."

"Right! Now push! Push!"

"**Fine! I'll push with all my might then!**"

***PING!***

**"PARK, YOU IDIOT!"**

**"I DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO SNAP!"**

**"THEN WHY DID YOU-?!"**

**"YOU KNOW WHAT, UPSHUR?!"**

"Um, guys?" I croaked out and the two of them immediately shut up and turned around. "Can't we just…. escape through here?" I pointed to a crack in the wall where we could slip into the next room. "Or..do you two…just want to keep arguing?"

"Uh….."

"Didn't think so." I sighed before slipping through the crack and into the next room.

The two of them quickly followed after, and I had to hide my smirk before they noticed.

It appeared to be an office—a clean one at that. None of the chairs or desks were destroyed, and the computers were in mint condition, although the wires were missing.

We raided the drawers and cabinets for anything useful and found a few partially melted Mars bars and room temperature bottles of water.

It was like a five course meal to us though.

"I never knew warm water and gooey mounds of sugar could be so delicious." Waylon chuckled, licking the remains of the chocolate bar off his fingers. "I'll have to go buy some in bulk the next time Lisa and I go to the store."

"Psh." Miles snorted before chugging down his water. "I plan on buying out the whole company. So don't be surprised if you get charged $20 per bar."

Waylon just rolled his eyes and grinned, and I felt a tiny bit of hope that they might be getting along.

But I could still see the animosity in my husband's eyes, so I knew better than to hold my breath.

Once we quenched our thirst and hunger a bit, the three of us carried on.

The office lead out to a slightly bigger room with cubicles scattered about. Unlike the room we just left, this room was completely destroyed and Waylon and I had to make sure not to step on any broken glass. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to find another corpse so I could take its shoes. They weren't going to need it anyways, so why not?

Although my reasoning was purely for survival, the still somewhat sane part of me thought stealing from a corpse was wrong and creepy.

Luckily, Miles helped us out by scooting the glass away and creating a path for us to walk on.

I kissed him as a thank you, and Waylon, I guess believing the banter in the office meant all was forgiven, tried to give him a hug, but Miles just decked him in the abdomen and called him an idiot.

Turning the corner, we found ourselves in a huge, barren hallway. At the end, there was a pair of double doors that were boarded up.

And on the other side of those doors was….

**Father Martin.**

He flashed his flashlight in our direction and waved us over.

"There's the bastard that knocked me out." Miles growled under his breath, running alongside us to the end of the hallway. "Hold the camcorder while I punch through the glass and strangle that twig he calls a neck."

"Miles." I snapped, placing my hand on his arm. "He's not…worth it."

"There you are, my son! I feared that secular maniac would've carved you up like the others!" Father Martin sighed in relief with a smile on his wrinkly face. "And you brought the angel with you! She must've protected you like her mission dictates. Now, she must lead you to revelation before her job is done!"

'Oh yeah. I forgot I was some sort of guardian angel.'

As Father Martin carried on with his sermon, Miles bent down and whispered, "**An angel?** **Are you serious?**"

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"It's….a long story. I'll explain later."

Curious, Waylon peeked out from behind us, and Father Martin stopped short, squinting against the dirty window to inspect Waylon.

"Um…" He fidgeted under the 'priest's' gaze.

"Ah…" Father Martin mumbled, nodding his head at something only he could understand. "You must be the fair shepherd…come to collect your lambs…"

"**My what?!**"

"There is much to do! No time for questions now!" Father Martin proclaimed before leaning forward to whisper, "Meet me outside. We're close now."

Then he raced off into the dark, leaving us to stare at his retreating form with varying amounts of confusion.

"Remind me to kick his ass once we're outside. He **is** worth that much, right?" Miles sighed, before looking around and pointing to a hallway on our left. "I guess that is where we must go."

As we trekked down the corridor, Waylon asked me why Father Martin called him a shepherd.

"Don't mind him." I replied, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. "He is….just a deluded man. He doesn't know what he's…talking about."

* * *

**A/N: A short chapter but necessary. And I love the idea of Waylon and Young-ja talking in Korean. Lol. And anyone who got the shepherd and lamb reference for Waylon will win at life. (As for the person it is from, I just love your story so much that I had to put that in there. :D )**

**And the next chapter is the 50****th****! Holy moley! As a thank you, it will be a special chapter full of prompts and AU's requested by you guys! I'm cool with almost anything but please keep them somewhat appropriate. I look forward to seeing what you guys would like to see! Some I have already received are like Miles and Young-ja's childhood, the day Annie was adopted, etc.**

**Please send some in!**

**Thank you and look forward to the next chapter! **

**Song of the Day: "Blue" by Gackt (has nothing to do with the chapter, but it seemed like something Young-ja would play and it is so beautiful! Gackt is awesome!)**


	50. Celebration Chapter

**A/N: Welcome to the 50th chapter of Milestones! This is full of prompts requested by you guys! Please enjoy them! And thank you so much! I hope you like them! :D**

* * *

**A glimpse into Miles and Young-ja's childhood….as told by Miles and Young-ja**

(Miles)

I was such a little shit as a child.

I mean, I'm still a little shit, but I'm a **little shit with responsibilities** so it doesn't count.

Anyways, it is a wonder my parents actually kept me at all considering that amount of crap I pulled them through.

When I was in the third grade, my teacher was out for a majority of the school year because she had a baby, so this student teacher was in charge during her absence. She was some twenty two year old in her last year of college and was simply doing her best to make it through the year. The other eight year olds in the class felt the same, doing as she requested, but little tater tot Miles Upshur played by his own rules.

On one fine week in September, Ms. Posada-the student teacher's name- was teaching us about the how the America flag was designed and asked us to draw a picture of it. So, 23 pre-cooked chicken nuggets sat at their tiny desks, inhaling scented markers and drawing the U.S. flag with such surrealism that even Salvador Dali would do a double take.

However, I, the barbecue-infused nugget of the batch, decided to go my own way. Armed with a tiny marker carousel that my mom bought me because she loves me so damn much, I made a psychedelic version of the America flag with sheep stars and Air Head stripes. I probably was high off the scent of markers, but-hey, admit it- we all burned brain cells sniffing markers in elementary story.

Anyways, Ms. Posada comes to check on my work, freezes for a good three minutes, then calmly crouches down next to my little work bench and politely asks me to re-do my drawing. Looking back, I realize she was just a simple student teacher and it would've looked bad on her review if someone pointed about she couldn't control one small child. Adult me realizes that now, but kid me thought Ms. Posada was being a "poopy head".

Hey, that is eight year old me talking.

So, after Ms. Posada asked me a second time to re-do my drawing, I simply picked up my drawing and waved the scented piece of paper under her nose before whispering, "Do you know what this smells like?"

"No…?" She replied unsurely, squinting her eyes in confusion.

"It smells like freedom." I said in a dead pan tone, eyes wide in all seriousness. "So don't tell me what to do, you poopy head."

So…..fifteen minutes later, I'm sitting outside the principal's office while my parents are inside, trying to keep me from being shipped off to the bottom of the ocean and left to rot.

"Please, Mr. Hayspill," My mother's heavy Italian accent drifted from behind the mahogany door. "My son is just in that difficult stage. I promise he will shape up soon."

"Mrs. Upshur," Principal Baldy sighed. "This is the sixth time in the past month your son has been sent to the office for rude behavior. First, it was for tripping that boy in line for taking the last milk carton. Second, he pushed a girl off the swings for "taking too long". Third, he scared a class of preschoolers by wearing a Hellraiser mask! Should I continue listing the problems?"

I could hear my mom sigh in despair, wanting to keep fighting for me but having to acknowledge the mound of trouble I had caused.

My parents have always been there to clean up my messes. Mom would bake loads of goodies for the kids I bullied, and Dad had to butter up all the parents who threatened to have to have me sent off to military school. In short, my parents had to basically grovel at the angry mobs feet so I wouldn't be blamed.

Did eight year old me appreciate this?

Of course not! I told you, I was a tater tot. And not one of those crispy ones with the perfect amount of salt, but one of those stale, mushy tots you find at the bottom of the bag.

In hindsight, perhaps a tiny part of the reason I was such a rotten kid was because my parents spoiled me too much. But, the only reason for that was because I was their first and only son after a long string of false alarms and miscarriages. My parents showered me with so much love and affection because they waited for so long to have me. So, I can claim I never was grounded or given a beating, but I can never say I wasn't loved because my parents gave every bit of their love to me.

But did I appreciate it?

Not until I was in college and I met a certain short stack who helped to open my heart a bit.

From that point on, I made sure to be a better son and have devoted the rest of my life to paying back every ounce of love my parents gave me.

So, I am no longer a stale tater tot.

Nope, I am now a warm, crispy hash brown…..with a gold ring around it.

* * *

(Young-ja)

I realize there are stereotypes about Asian parents being strict and only caring about 'honor' and 'grades'. Well, I can confidently tell you that is a big fat lie because a majority of the families I know are pretty laid back. Perhaps it is because school is more competitive here and Korean high school is basically the equivalent to American college, so that may be why we are so study oriented. Well, that and kids here pay to go to school, unlike the free K-12 thing the States have got going on. Yes, studying is a huge part of our lives but the parents aren't dictators who force their kids to study every hour on the hour. And my parents aren't like that.

Well….they weren't at first.

Before I started going to school, my parents were a lot more affectionate and spoke gently to me.

I mean, my parents were never touchy feely people in the first place and it was very rare to receive a kiss or hug from them, but they at least made me feel warm inside.

Then, when I went to kindergarten, things began to change.

The high end law office my father worked for was accused of using forgeries in their cases, and several lawyers were laid off.

My father included.

He spent months searching for a new job, but no one would take him after hearing the scandal. My father is an honest man and he would never forge anything to win, but the public thought differently. My mother, who was a housewife, also tried to look for work but no one would take her because of her age and lack of education.

My parents married in their twenties but had me in their early forties, another thing people looked down on them for.

Eventually, the warm aura in the house turned cold and we were soon forced to move into a smaller house—the same house they live in today.

While I was in school, away from the negative emotions covering my house, I tried to make friends, but no one even looked my way. I was a tiny, chubby kid who cried easily and fumbled with my words out of fear. My emotional nature only grew worse as my parents withdrew further from me, and as time went on, I stopped trying to make friends and started to keep to myself. I stopped talking all together for a while because every time I opened my mouth, someone snapped at me and told me to speak clearly, which only made my fumbling worse. Money began to shorten out in the house, and our meals started to become a bowl of rice and kimchi with barely water. My stomach constantly grumbled, but I was too scared to ask for seconds so I went to bed hungry several times.

In my five year old mind, I thought if there was money in the house, my parents would be happy again. So, after school, I would go to stores and ask for money. Nine times out of ten, I was chased out of the stores and called a thieving punk or the daughter of a liar. And every time that would happen, I would sit in an alleyway and cry, not caring if my school uniform got dirt on it. Since my parents were too busy searching for work, I had to learn how to take care of myself, which meant bathing myself, doing my own laundry, and sometimes-cooking for myself.

The world had lost its warmth and I began to fear people. They did nothing but stab me with their sharp words and make fun of me as I cried in frustration because I was too afraid to stand up for myself.

By the time I was six, I stopped looking up at all, choosing to stare at the ground wherever I went so I wouldn't have to look at anyone. Mother finally struck gold and got a job as a cook in the mess hall at a nearby Air Force Base, so money started to flow back into the house again. Father still tried to look for work, but one day, he fell down the stairs at the bus station and broke his leg. He wasn't brought to the hospital in time, so he now walks with a limp.

During that period, while Mother worked and Father recovered, I continued living my life as a wallflower until the day a musician came to visit the first grade. I was in love the moment that man played Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" on the piano and marveled at how everyone in the room looked so tranquil. I knew in that moment I wanted to have that ability: to create music that would capture everyone's attention. After the performance, everyone cleared out of the music room to go eat lunch, so I used that time to approach the grand piano and try to re-create what I heard. In my six year old mind, I thought if I could remember it, then I could play it. Of course it all sounded jumbled and distorted, and I was soon in tears at my apparent failure.

Then, a pair of warm hands covered mine and helped me play the song. I immediately whipped my head around to find the musician smiling down at me. Scared he would mock me, I yanked my hands out from under him and raced to the corner, curling into a ball and covering my face.

The musician just smiled before slowly crouching down next to me and reaching out his hand. I flinched, ready for a smack or punch to the head, but instead, he gave me a soft pat on the head.

Oh…how long had it been since anyone had given me a comforting gesture?

"You are very good." The musician hummed. "You have a natural talent, all you need to do is polish it up and you'll be great in no time."

I never forgot that man's words, and I still carry them with me to this day.

The musician gave me a form for my parents to sign, asking if I could receive lessons from him on Sundays.

And the moment that form was slipped in my hands, my life began to change for the better and worse.

Upon hearing that their daughter had musical talent, my parents began to push me harder and harder in school and music, claiming I needed to be successful to live a good life.

Looking back now as an adult with a child of my own, I realize my parents only pushed me so hard….because they didn't want me to end up poor and unable to support my family like they did. Thought my parents are very conservative and stiff, I know they love me, and I love them.

As I began taking lessons with the musician, my fumbling began to fade away and I stopped crying so much. My piano lessons gave me some self-confidence, and although I was still very anti-social and afraid of people, I was able to move through life with some hope for the future.

Before graduating high school, the musician, Mr. Chon YongHwa, gave me one last gift before we parted ways: an application for a music scholarship sponsored by Colorado State University in the U.S.A.

The United States?! I was too scared to every consider leaving the country, but Mr. Chon encouraged me to apply, so I did.

And, as you guys already know, I got accepted to my, his, and my parents' delight.

As I entered the gate of the college that following August, I expected four years of keeping my head low, avoiding all human contact, and getting my degree without any conflict.

But, that all went out the window when I met a certain smart mouth kid on a rainy day. He is the one who helped me express myself freely and hold my head up once more.

But, most importantly, he made me feel loved again.

The proper love I never received as a child was given to me constantly for twelve years and it continues to engulf me to this day.

My childhood may not have been the happiest, but it made me who I am today and if enduring such pain meant becoming a musician, meeting Miles, and having a wonderful daughter, then it was worth it.

* * *

**Alternate version of Chapter 1: Meeting….as kids.**

(Third person)

It was the first time four year old Park Young-ja had been to the States. The foreign chatter in the airport confused and amazed her all at once. She was traveling with her parents who were going to visit some friends in Florida and the plane had made a fuel stop in Kansas City, Missouri. The tiny girl clutched her Moomin doll close to her chest and stared up in wonder at all the lights and displays flashing around the large airport. Her thick, dark brown hair was done up in two puffy buns framing the sides of her chubby face, done in an attempt to mimic one of the many 80s anime heroines. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement and several passersbys awed at the adorable sight. Soon a teenager walked by with a Goofy hat on and the little girl immediately reached out to tug on her mother's dress so she could point to the funny sight. But, all she grasped was thin air. While marveling the new sights, Young-ja had not been paying attention to where her parents were going and was now lost.

Having no knowledge of the English language and scared to death, the four year old fell to her knees and began to cry against her doll, calling out for her parents.

Then suddenly, a napkin was shoved against her face and Young-ja glanced up to find a boy around her age crouched next to her. He had light green eyes and a round face framed with curly black hair. The boys glared at her, trying to look tough but he looked as threating as a fuzzy bunny. His family had just gotten back from a trip to Italy, and the boy was ready to go home and play with his new toys.

"What are you crying for?" The boy asked in an annoyed tone. "Are you a baby or something?"

The words were like gibberish to her so Young-ja just stared at the boy in confusion, tears still sliding down her cheeks.

"You are still crying?" The boy groaned in annoyance before reaching into his pocket and pulling out more napkins. "Did someone die? Crying never solved anything you know. And can't you speak? I'm talking to you, y'know!"

Though she didn't understand him, Young-ja could see the boy was getting irritated and cleared her throat to speak up.

"잘 모르겠어요.*" She mumbled against her doll, eyes staring at the marble ground. (*A very formal way of saying "I don't understand")

"What?" The boy squinted his eyes in confusion. "You don't speak English or something? Ugh, why didn't you say so?!"

The language barrier now established, the two four year olds elected to continue crouching in the middle of the hallway and stare at each other in silence.

"I'm Miles Upshur." The boy suddenly spoke up, electing to ignore the language barrier and making Young-ja jump in fright.

"Eh?" Young-ja gasped, trying to decipher his words.

"Miles. Upshur." He pointed to himself, his wide smile showing off his missing tooth. "My name is Miles Upshur."

As he continued pointing to himself, Young-ja eventually understood what he was getting at.

"Michaels…Upshore?" She repeated slowly and pointed to him.

"No, no!" He shook in his finger in front of her face like a spoiled know-it-all. "Miles Upshur! **Mi-les Up-shur**. Say it with me! **Mi-les Up-shur!**"

"Mi…les…Up…shur?"

"Yes!" He beamed, giving her a double thumbs up. "And what is your name?" Miles pointed to her.

"Miles Upshur?"

"No! That is my name. I'm Miles Upshur!" He patted his chest then patted hers. "Who are you?"

"Oh!" Young-ja gasped in understanding. "Park Young-ja."

"Park Young-ja? Your first name is Park?"

"Park Young-ja!" She pointed to herself, then recalled her father saying that Americas put their first name first. "Ah! Young-ja Park!"

"Young-ja? That is your name?"

"Young-ja." She nodded, patting her chest. "Young-ja Park!"

"Well, nice to meet you, Young-ja!" Miles smiled and held out his hand.

Young-ja stared at it for a moment before placing her hand in his and letting him roughly shake it.

"Great!" He laughed. "Now we know each other! You wanna play tag?"

"T-tag?" She repeated.

"Ah! Do they not play tag where you are from? Hmmmm." He began to stroke his chin, a habit he picked up from his father to look more mature. "Hey, is this your doll?" Miles pointed to the Moomin doll in Young-ja's arms.

"Moomin." She held the cow doll up and made it wave at Miles. "Moo~Moo~Min~."

Miles busted into a fit of laughter, causing Young-ja to blush at the sight and hide her face behind the doll.

"I have some toys too." Miles dug into his backpack and pulled out an Etch a Sketch. "I am a great drawer! Watch me!"

Together, the two of them huddled together and watched Miles create masterpieces such as "Askew Tree" and "Very Askew Log".

Young-ja clapped and cheered as Miles shook the toy to erase the final masterpiece, and he soaked in the praise and bowed with a proud smile.

"I'm going to do something great one day! Promise me you'll cheer for me again when we get big, okay?" He shoved his pinky finger into her face.

Young-ja had no idea what Miles was going on about, but just smiled and locked pinkies with him anyways.

"Now you can never go back on your promise! If you do, then…then…" The boys racked his brain for something to scare her with…despite the fact that she couldn't understand him. "Then all of your stuffed animals will come to life and go pee pee on your bed!"

Young-ja just nodded, completely unaware of the boy's outrageous threat.

Then, in the distance, Park Minho and Park Eun-hye could be heard calling for their daughter. Shortly after, Kamal and Sophia Upshur could be heard doing the same.

"Well, sounds like we have to go bye bye now." Miles sighed, pulling Young-ja to her feet. "Now, remember your promise and no more crying! Or I'll give you a knuckle sandwich!"

The little boy shook in fist in Young-ja face and she laughed at the funny gesture, making the boy's cheeks turn red at her adorable smile.

"T-There is nothing funny!" He pouted, crossing his arms and pointing the other way. "Go to your mommy and daddy, you stupid girl! Go!"

As her parents calls grew closer, Young-ja knew it was time to say goodbye to her new friend, so she waved goodbye to Miles and made Moomin do the same before scampering off towards her parents, all tracing of her earlier crying session now gone.

"Remember your promise!" Miles called out one last time, waving to her retreating back before hurrying off to his parents.

"Mother, Father!" Young-ja cried out, grabbing his mother's hand. "I just met a funny boy!"

"Mom, Dad!" Miles shouted, running into his father's arms. "I just met a weird girl!"

* * *

**The day Annie was adopted**

(Miles)

Yesterday, when I promised to bring home a new friend for Young-ja, I was really just speaking out of my ass at the time.

I mean, where am I going to find someone to hang out with her while I'm gone? I can't just walk up to someone, handed them $100, and ask them to be friends with my wife for six hours of the day!

I kicked a lamppost in frustration, flipping the bird to a man who gave me a strange look.

'Of all the times to have a huge case, why did it have to be when Young-ja's due date is approaching?!'

I told her I was going to drop the case to be with her, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart, but she insisted on me to continue working.

Sighing, I leaned against the lamppost I was abusing earlier and closed my eyes.

I would do anything for her….because…because Young-ja is my entire world and our daughter will be my stars when she is born, so it kills me to leave her alone in that farmhouse for half a day.

We fell in love with the old house in the country the moment we saw it.

"It is perfect for our growing family." Young-ja said, placing her hand on her still flat abdomen.

I smiled at the memory, remembering it was the glow in her eyes that sold me.

Pushing myself off the lamppost, I heading down the sidewalk towards the parking garage where my jeep was so I could head home. It was cloudy all day, and now, Mother Nature decided it was time to send a spring shower upon Denver.

Grumbling under my breath, I jogged down the sidewalk and was about to turn the corner when I heard something.

"Bark! Bark!"

It was a squeaky little bark, and I found myself backpedaling to see what caused it. I stood in front of a pet store window, a sign in the corner advertising "Adoptions Daily". There was a small play area in front of the window where passerbys could look in at the puppies and kitties and whatevers playing around.

However, there was only one dog in the play area—a leftover from the adoption rush early that day.

"Poor thing." I sighed, crouching down and placing my hand on the cold window, chuckling as the baby Corgi got on its hind legs and pawed at my hand with much excitement.

It couldn't have been more than a few days old, but it was a strong little thing full of life and joy.

Then our eyes meet and that puppy's big eyes sucked my soul dry.

"Fuck it!" I shot up to my feet and kicked to door of the pet store open. "Old Man! I want that puppy over there!"

"Alright, I just need you to si-."

"Shut up and take my money!"

"Welcome home, Miles." Young-ja greeted me in the foyer, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other one holding a mug of warm tea for me.

"Aw, Short Stack." I sighed, taking the mug out of her hand and placing onto a nearby table before gathering her into my arms and kissing her. "Didn't I tell you to stop waiting up for me? What if you fall over?"

"And what if I don't?" She smiled, wrapping her arms around me. "I want to see you come through the door myself. It makes me and the baby feel better knowing you are home safe and sound."

I smiled and was about to kiss her once more, but a loud bark interrupted us.

"Um, Miles?" Young-ja started, pointing to my jacket. "Did…your jacket just bark at me?"

"No!" I snorted, unzipping my jacket and holding it open. "**This** is what you heard."

"Awwww!" Young-ja squealed, making grabby hands at the baby Corgi nestled inside my jacket. "Who is this cutie?!"

"Your husband."

"No! I'm talking about the puppy, you dork!"

"This," I smiled, placing the Corgi into her waiting arms, "is your new friend. Annie will keep you company when I can't."

"Annie?" She cooed, rubbing her nose against the puppies and laughed as Annie licked her nose. "Why that name?"

"Because…. "Annie" is your favorite musical." I mumbled, slightly embarrassed at my confession.

"You dork!" My beautiful wife giggled, getting up on her toes to kiss me sweetly before waddling towards the bedroom. "Time for me to snuggle with our new family member!"

"H-Hey!" I called after them, kicking my shoes off. "Remember the talk we had in the car, Annie! The bedroom is **MY** domain!"

* * *

**Waylon reuniting with his family following Chapter 18**

"I wish you the best of luck in the future, Ms. Park." I smiled, placing my hand on the young lady's shoulder.

She smiled and wished me the same, and we went our separate ways.

Young-ja Park….she was a sweet, gentle young lady. I hope her romance with Miles Upshur will continue to blossom. I had been a huge fan since his Afghanistan report. It didn't take long for me to trace the leaked footage back to him, and ever since that day, I've followed his reports very closely. His unclouded sense of justice and drive to help the victims made me admire him with all my heart.

I glanced down at the business card Young-ja gave me and laughed.

'I might have a use for this one day.'

But my mind soon drifted away from Miles Upshur and Young-ja Park as I took the escalator up the arrivals lobby.

'At long last, I'll finally be with my family once again.'

The moment I reached the top, I could see my sons racing across the linoleum floor, huge smiles plastered to their faces. Nick, our youngest, was holding Lisa's hand, trying to run as fast as his baby legs could take him, and Owen, our three year old, was latched onto me before I could blink.

"Daddy!" Owen cried, clinging to me with all his might. "I missed you!"

"Hey," I smiled, kissing his forehead and holding him close. "I missed you too, Wen-Wen."

"No!" He stuck his tongue out in disgust. "I'm grown up now! No more baby names!"

"Oh really?" I chuckled, tickling his sides and making him erupt into giggles. "But you will always be my baby."

Lisa and Nick finally caught up to us and I immediately lent forward and kissed my wonderful wife with all my heart and soul.

"Ewww!" Owen squealed, burying his face into my shoulder.

"Welcome home." Lisa smiled, now holding Nick in her arms. "We missed you so much, honey."

"Not as much as I missed you guys." I grinned, stroking Nick's baby face before wrapping an arm around Lisa's shoulder and holding my entire family close. "C'mon, time to go home."

* * *

**A Day out with Mommy….because we don't see a lot of interaction between Young-ja and Ae-cha.**

On one of my days off, I decided to let Miles catch up on work and took our little nine month old daughter out for a day on the town.

"Y'know, I don't have THAT much work to do." Miles spoke up, leaning against the doorway as I zipped up Ae-cha's jacket and made sure her shoes were on tight. "I could've taken you two out shopping if you asked earlier."

"Nonsense!" I giggled, blowing raspberries against Ae-cha's cheek before picking her up. "You have kept Mrs. Peters waiting too long for you to report back to her. Now, behave and do your work, and maybe we'll get you a present. Right, sweetie?"

"Da!"

"See? She agrees! Now, we'll be back before five and there are plenty leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry."

Looking like a tree blowing over in a harsh wind, my dear husband just nodded with a dejected look and I couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable sight.

"You always hog our little girl to yourself, so let me have a day with her."

"But I nev-!"

I hopped up and kissed him quickly before grabbing my purse and racing out the door, calling out a "See you soon, my love!" behind my shoulder.

Skipping over to my bike, I settled Ae-cha in front of me, securing her seatbelt and helmet before kicking the brake up, revving up the engine, and speeding off towards the city.

One of the perks of living out in the country was the peace and quiet, but it did take a while to get to the city, but I wouldn't trade it for anything else.

Arriving at one of my favorite bistros, I kicked the brake back on, took off our helmets, and carried our little girl into the tiny building.

It wasn't rush hour yet, so we got a seat pretty quickly. I helped Ae-cha into her high chair and let her play with a napkin while I ordered for us. One of the reasons I loved this bistro was because they actually had a section of the menu dedicated to babies! Which is fantastic since my baby deserves a five star meal while on a night on the town!

"What are you hungry for, Ae-cha?" I held the menu out in front of her. "Pick anything you want and _umma_ will get it for you."

"Bah!" She threw her shards of napkins at the menu and laughed.

"Hmmm. I see! Excellent choice!" I called our waiter back over and put in our order. "Hello, my daughter would like your finest Mac n Cheese, and I will take a bowl of your Sausage and Lentil Soup."

While waiting for our food, I pulled out Ae-cha's toys from my purse and we played House on the table using the sugar bin and flower vase as buildings. Well, I played House while Ae-cha gnawed Charlie Brown's head off.

"No, no, sweetie." I laughed, gentle taking the poor doll from her mouth and giving her a teething ring instead. "Blockheads aren't good for your teeth."

She laughed and chewed away without a care in the world.

Soon, our waiter came back with our food, and it was time to eat!

"Say 'ah!'" I cooed, holding a spoonful of gooey delights in front of her until she complied.

Ae-cha was never a fussy baby to fed, if you place a dish of food in front of her, she will eat it without a second thought. I guess she inherited that from her papa.

Once Ae-cha was full, I picked her up, burped her, gave her a bottle of milk, and quickly ate my soup. Since becoming a mom, I've learned to do things quickly so I can devote all my time to the little one.

After paying the check and giving our waiter a generous tip, we left the bistro and began strolling down the sidewalk. I pointed to various objects and explained what they were to Ae-cha.

"That is a street lamp, sweetie. When it gets dark, it goes 'Pop!' and light comes out." I made a 'Popping' motion with my hand and giggled as she tried to mimic me. Ae-cha is just too cute when she tries to copy us. Just a few days ago, Miles was sitting on the couch and reading a novel while Ae-cha sat in her walker and tried to do the same with one of her picture books. She would've been a mirror image….if it wasn't for the fact that she was holding the book upside down. Ae-cha is such a Daddy's girl and tries to do everything just like him. She even plays with his camcorder a few times when the moron doesn't put it up like I'm always telling him too. Miles is a little more careful now since the last time Ae-cha got her hands on his camcorder, she recorded herself making drool bubbles for ten minutes straight and he accidently showed it to one of his clients during a meeting. He never got mad at her though; Miles is just not capable of yelling at our baby. He is such a marshmallow deep down.

We spent a good two hours walking around, pointing at random things and such. Then we went into a little beauty store and I bought Ae-cha an entire Spring wardrobe, complete with hair accessories and shoes.

"We can have a little fashion show for your Daddy when we get home!" I laughed, Ae-cha in one arm and the bags in the other. "You are becoming so beautiful! Maybe you can become a model one day."

"Ba!"

"No? Well, whatever you decide to do, we will support you until the end!" I kissed her rosy cheeks and was thrilled when she did the same to me. "I love you, my little Ae-cha. I love you, Annie, and your Daddy so much that it makes me believe in happily ever after."

Ae-cha just smiled and patted my cheeks, as if she understood what I was saying.

"It's getting late, so we should head home now." I hummed, skipping back towards my bike. "But first, we should pick up something for your Daddy! A reward for not stalking us the entire day to make sure we are safe…..like he did last time."

Thirty minutes later, we rolled up to the driveway and I tip toed to the front door with a sleeping Ae-cha and five bags in my arms. It took me a moment to fish out my keys, but I managed to open the door, close/lock it, and kick off my shoes without waking her up. The house was dark and quiet, so I knew Miles was either sleeping or in his office. I slowly creeped up the stairs and went into Ae-cha's nursery. I placed the four clothing bags to the side and changed Ae-cha into her pajamas. I tucked her into her crib, making sure her feet were covered, and that she was comfortable. I also made sure her baby monitor and night light were on and function properly.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Thank you so much for the wonderful day." I kissed her forehead before tip toeing out of the room and closing the door behind me.

I made my way down the hallway and saw light peeking out from under the office door. I knocked on the door a few times but when I didn't receive an answer, I cracked it open and peeked inside. Miles was slouched over his desk, head resting on his crossed arms. His desk was covered in notes and photographs, proving that he actually had a lot of work to do. An empty plate and coffee mug were placed off to the side with an open bag of jelly beans next to it.

I crept up to the desk and smiled down at my sleeping husband.

"You liar." I mumbled, brushing his bangs back. "You **did** have work to do today."

Slowly, Miles began to stir and with a yawn, he opened his eyes and glanced up at me.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." I whispered.

"Hey." He mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "When did you get back?"

"Just now. And~" I whipped out the bag I was hiding behind my back. "I went and bought those blueberry croissants you love so much. Since you have been working hard, here is your present."

Miles gave me a sleepy smile and took the bag and placed it on his desk.

"Thanks, Short Stack. But," He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto his lap. "knowing the two of you made it home safely is a better present."

I laughed and snuggled against him, enjoying the warmth his embrace always gave me.

"Were you lonely?"

"…A little. It's not often I have the house to myself."

"You have Annie with you though."

"That cinnamon roll butt did nothing but sleep the entire time you guys were gone." He pouted, resting his cheek on my head. "Mhmmm. I'm sleepy."

"Then let's go to sleep." I tried to get of his lap, but he held me still.

"Not yet. Tell me about your day."

"It's late, Miles. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"But I wanna hear if you guys had fun today." He yawned, leaning back in his chair and taking me with him. "C'mon, what adventures did my Short Stack and Cheerios have in the big city?"

I smiled and sighed in defeat, making myself comfortable in his arms before telling him all about our girl's day out.

* * *

**Father/Daughter Dance because of reasons. (C'mon, Miles is this tall redwood man and he is going to be surrounded by all of these tiny shrubs. Lol.)**

(Miles)

"Short Stack, Is my tie on straight?" I asked Young-ja, peeking my head into the music room.

"**For the 52nd time**, **Miles, yes."** She sighed in exasperation, scooting back from the piano. "It was straight when you asked me two minutes ago, it was also straight when you asked me five minutes ago, and it was al-."

"Alright I get it!" I began pacing around the room, fiddling with my cuff links. "I'm just….anxious."

I turned around when I heard her laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that you are so cute!" She got up from the bench and came to my side. "If this is you at a Father/Daughter dance in an elementary school, I can't wait to see the Father/Daughter dance at her wedding."

"Don't even want to think about that." I grumbled under my breath, watching her adjusting my collar and buttoning up my blazer before she sighed. "Why are you sighing?"

"Well," Young-ja hummed, taking my hands in hers. "for one, I'm jealous that you get to have this moment with Ae-cha. There aren't many Mother/Daughter dances in the school system. And second, you look really handsome in a suit. The last time I saw you wearing one was when you went to that birthday gala two years ago….alone."

"It was for Mr. Patrick's birthday. I had no choice since he's an old friend of the family, and you're lucky my mom didn't drag you along because it was boring as hell."

"I know, but," She clasped her hands behind her back and shyly dug her toes into the carpet, making me grasp my chest involuntarily at how cute she looked. "It would have been fun, getting all dressed up and walking around with you on my arm and I could show off my gorgeous husband to the masses."

"…..Are you calling me 'arm candy'?"

"Mayb-Ack!" She squealed as I reached out and pulled her cheeks in revenge for the arm candy comment. "Ruresme! Ruresme!" (Release Me! Release Me!)

I let her go and chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at me while rubbing her red cheeks.

"It's not my fault you're handsome." I was tempted to pull her cheeks again but settled for bending forward and bumping my forehead against hers.

"You're pretty radiant yourself, _Cara Mia._" I gave her a light kiss on the lips before continuing on. "How about we have a date night tomorrow? Both of us get dressed up and go to that one restaurant near the lake. It's very expensive and **very crowded**. We will sit on the patio and everyone will talk about what a sexy couple we are while we drink wine with our pinkies out. Then we will come home and work on Child #2. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful. It's a date." She giggled and looked so bashful that I was tempted to start the date then and there. "However, I think your date for tonight has been waiting for you."

"And how rude of me to make a lady wait. We'll be back by nine."

"Alright. Be careful and make sure not to drive with the window down. It took me hours to get her hair perfect."

"Roger that."

We headed out of the music room and went to the main hallway, just in time to hear Ae-cha come running down the stairs.

"No running, Ae-cha!" Young-ja called out in her motherly tone. "You know the rule!"

"Yes, Mommy_!_" She smiled, walking down the rest of the way before bouncing in front of us. "Am I pretty, Daddy?"

"_Sei bellissima_!" I applauded as she twirled around in her bright red dress. Her long, black hair had been put up in a bun and was decorated with flower pins, all Short Stack's handiwork.

"Have fun, sweetheart." Young-ja bent down and kissed Ae-cha goodbye before doing the same for me. "Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"I promise!" Ae-cha smiled before we pulled our shoes on and headed out.

* * *

The dance was taking place in the school gymnasium. A huge banner with the words **"Sonya Rose Elementary's Kindergarten Father/Daughter Dance"** rested upon the double doors.

"I think it is a full house tonight, Cheerio." I pointed out, looking for a parking place.

"Yeah!" She bounced up and down in her car seat. "Daddy, can you dance?"

"Of course I can dance." I laughed, putting the jeep into park and unbuckling myself before going to help her out of her seat. "You saw me dancing last night. I smoked the entire competition!"

"That was a video game!" She giggled behind her hands as I locked the doors. "That is not the same!"

"Dance Dance Revolution is the cornerstone of dancing simulation, Cheerio."

"What does 'simulation' mean?"

"I'll read the dictionary to you later," I reached out and took her tiny hand in mine. "Well, then, shall we go in, Princess Cheerio?"

"Yeah!"

And we headed inside with the other dressed up fathers and daughters.

We were the best looking ones though.

**Just saying.**

* * *

For a simple dance for a bunch of five year olds, the gymnasium actually looked pretty cool. There were paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, a punch table with a heart shaped bowl, a DJ playing classical music, tables with frilly table clothes, and last but not least, Thomas the Tank Engine plates.

Because nothing brings a dance together quite like talking trains on a secluded island who are employed by a top hat dictator.

The moment we stepped into the room, a bunch of little kids swarmed around me like a scene from "Children of the Corn" and I nearly had a heart attack.

'Back away, you demons! Back, I say!'

"Ae-cha!" A girl with curly hair smiled. "You are so pretty!"

"Ae-cha!" A boy with freckles shouted. "Let's go eat the cake!"

Feeling much like Gulliver in Lilliput, I gave Ae-cha permission to scurry off with the little gremlins and sat down at a nearby table.

I fiddled around with the centerpieces which were hydrangeas wrapped in ribbon.

'Wonder how much I can steal before anyone notices.'

Moments later, I felt a tap on my knee and looked down to find my daughter curtsying before me.

"May I have this dance?" She asked, perfectly imitating her mom and I clutched my chest once again.

'Why is my family so fucking adorable?!'

I laughed and stood up, bowing at the waist and holding my hand out.

"It would be my honor."

We walked onto the dance floor just as a nice string quartet began to play.

She stepped onto my shoes, I took ahold of her hands, and we began to dance.

I felt like an idiot, but the huge smile on Ae-cha's face made it all worthwhile. Neither of us were great dancers, Young-ja was the musically inclined family member, but we made it work.

As we box stepped around the floor, Young-ja's words echoed through my brain and the thought that someday I would dance with Ae-cha on her wedding day made my throat close up and I held her hands tighter.

"Something wrong, Daddy?"

"Nothing, sweetheart." I smiled and twirled her around. "Just…just don't grow up too fast, alright?"

"Alright." She smiled and hugged my legs. "I love you, Daddy!"

"I love you too, Ae-cha." I picked her up and spun around, grinning as she squealed in surprise and joy. "I always will."

* * *

The rest of the evening went great.

After playing some more classical pieces, the DJ did a 360 and randomly played the "Electric Slide", and I knew it was my time to shine; I ended up teaching the dance to a group of five year olds while their father chuckled behind their hands.

"Breathe a word of this to my wife and I will end you." I told them later.

Soon Little Cheerio tired herself out and I carried her back to the jeep and we headed home.

"How was it?" Young-ja whispered, closing the door behind me since I was carrying a sleeping Ae-cha.

"It was fun." I smiled, slipping her shoes off and heading upstairs. "We won first place in looks and talent."

"You went to a school dance, not the Ms. America competition."

"Close enough." I gently placed Ae-cha on her plushie infested bed before tucking her in and kissing her on the forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Thank you for the lovely evening."

Once I was back in the hallway, Young-ja bombarded me with questions ranging from the music to how many times I fell flat on my face.

"Such confidence you have in me, my love." I sighed, shrugging my blazer off and tossing it to the side once we were in our room. "But I believe you would've been amazed at my dancing skills."

"Really?" She laughed, sitting on the bed. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Guess we'll have to add dancing to our date to do list." I grinned, pulling my tie off and adding it to the pile. "I'll have to get in some practice before hand though."

"DDR is not a real dancing simulation, Miles."

"**Yes it is!**"

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked this special chapter! We return to the main story in the next one so look forward to it!**


	51. Pyromaniac

**A/N: Thank you so much for the awesome and lovely support and reviews! I hope my story continues to please you!**

**I welcome all new and returning readers! **

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

(Miles)

_After Ae-cha's birth, it was only logical that the next step would be to show her off to her grandparents. My parents invaded the hospital nine hours after the birth….even though I never called and said Young-ja went into labor. My mom must be a psychic because when I asked how she knew, she just said "I know everything". Anyways, they marveled at the little Cheerio and brought a shit ton of baby clothes and toys. Young-ja was happy they came, but I could tell she was a little embarrassed to be seen in a hospital gown and still recovering from hours of harsh labor. Luckily, my parents aren't idiots and took a hint, saying they would go ahead to our house and set everything up from when I drove her and our newborn home. So, in short, they are the typical grandparents that spoil their grandchild with goodies and hugs. I expected that though, no one loves children more than my parents. Every time they come over, they worship little Cheerio and ask if we've been good parents to her while we are right next to them. Other than the occasional, "Buy my granddaughter more toys" and "Let me see my granddaughter more often!", they are pretty content with our parenting method: firm at times, but not authoritative and very nurturing and loving. While we would love to spoil Ae-cha, we know there are limits and we do our best to teach her right from wrong and that you can't always get what you want. I think we are doing a good job so far because Ae-cha is very sweet and polite._

_But, I'm her dad so I might be a little biased._

_Now, on the flip side, there are Young-ja's parents, aka Mr. and Mrs. Stick-Up-My-Ass._

_Due to the risks involved with newborns on flights, we waited until Ae-cha was two months old before flying to Gun-san to see them. We did send pictures beforehand though so it wasn't like they hadn't seen her before._

_Ae-cha slept for most of the flight which was fucking fantastic because if she cried the entire time, the other passengers would've thrown us into the ocean. Not before I threw them off first though for being dicks to my baby. _

_Oh, and just for your information, I never got over my fear of flights so that sucked balls. Young-ja helped keep my mind off the ride by tracing comforting words on my palm and singing in my ear during take-off. So basically she had to be mommy to our baby and then mommy to her 28 year old husband._

_God, I love that woman. _

_When we arrived, the old farts were waiting for us at the gate. As Young-ja showed off our baby in her arms, I swear I saw smiles on their faces and immediately looked to the sky for flying pigs. They had a baby hanbok made for Ae-cha, which was actually pretty generous of them. As for their affection factor, they patted her on the head every once in a while but that was it._

_Eh, we'll take what we can get._

_We have gone to visit them several times over the past two years, and I have learned they have several opinions on the way we are raising Ae-cha. Well, I have several opinions about their faces, but do you see me vocalize them? _

_It is usually stuff like "Why do you hold her so much? Put her down." or "Why do you dress her in such extravagant garments? Simplicity is best." or "You need to be more firm with her. She must learn to be respectful at a young age."_

_To which I respond with "I hold her because I fucking want to. She is my baby, not yours"and "Because she is freaking adorable and I love buying cute clothes for her", and "Don't tell me how to raise my kid. Ae-cha is a baby, not a solider in the army."_

_As you can see, I've stopped trying to win points with them. Their daughter already put a ring on it, so what the hell can they do to me~?_

_Nuh~thing~! That's what!_

_I'm surprised Young-ja turned out to be such a warm person knowing her parents, but I guess she had some outside influences growing up. Young-ja doesn't really like talking about her past, and I respect that. _

_But she is a wonderful mom, and I do my best to be a loving and dependable dad, so I think that is all that matters in the end._

_Mom, Dad, thanks for your stamp of approval._

_Mother and Father-in law, you can suck my kneecaps._

* * *

(Young-ja)

The further we went down the hallway, the thicker the air became with smoke and my eyes began to water.

"What the hell?" Waylon muttered, waving away some of the smoke from us. "Is something on fire?"

"That would be my guess, Mr. Programmer." Miles muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Waylon.

'Miles,' I mentally sighed, pulling my scarf over my nose and mouth to keep from further damaging my throat. 'Grow up.'

Eventually the smoke become so thick we had to crawl on the floor…which is not easy with one arm, but I managed.

"This way." Miles grunted, pointing up to an open window. "The air should be clearer in there."

However, after we hopped up on a table and climbed through the window and landed on the other side, we saw for a fact that the air was not clear. Instead, we found the source of the smoke: a burning lunch room.

"So about the air being clearer."

"Shut up, Park."

The air was so thick and hot that it hurt to even move, but we had to.

Miles held me close as we slowly navigated past the burning lumber, holding his hands out to shield us from the flames. In the distance, I could make out a hunched over finger and I gestured towards it. As we moved closer, we realized it was a patient.

"Hey," Miles called out, "Are you the one who started the fire?"

"And why are you just sitting here?" Waylon added on.

"I had to burn it. All of it." The man replied, staring at the ground with this worn out expression. "Murkoff took so much from us. Used us. Turned us into these….**things** because no one cares about a few forgotten lunatics."

As this… this **pyromaniac** said those piercing words, Miles and Waylon immediately looked at each other, as if remembering why they were here in this mess in the first place.

It was to take down Murkoff for profiting off the lives of innocent people.

"Hey," Miles called out again, this time in a softer tone. "You need to come with us. You'll burn to death if you don't."

"So let it burn. Let **me burn**." The pyromaniac shrugged, still refusing to make eye contact. "Just…burn the whole good damn thing to the ground…."

"But you'll die here!" Waylon reached out towards the man. "We can hel-!"

"**Leave me alone!**" He swatted his hand away before slouching forward once more. "Get out…if you want to live. You can…get out through the kitchen."

Staring at this patient…this man who believed burning to death was a better option than staying in this hell….my hatred for Murkoff increased and I wanted to scream and apologize to this man and all of the other patients.

But I just let Miles and Waylon lead me away, and we walked towards the kitchen.

"Shit!" Miles gasped as a wooden board popped dangerously close to his face. "I can't see shit in this place. We need to put out this blasted fire."

"I have an idea." Waylon pointed up to a few sprinklers on the ceiling. "We need to turn these on to put the fire out."

Well, easier said than done.

Finding the sprinkler room was easy, but it turns out we had to turn on two valves first to make the sprinklers work, so that was just great.

Luckily, Waylon seemed to know where the valves were since he'd been through the Male Ward a few times.

However, we had a 'tiny' road block in our way: Chris Walker.

It had been a while since I last saw him, but it wasn't a happy reunion.

But, we were just quick enough to hide in the dark or behind boxes so that he never noticed us, but I'm sure he could smell us.

After playing hide and go seek with Chris Walker for about thirty minutes, we turned on both valves and raced back to the sprinkler room where Miles slammed the 'On' button and water poured down from the ceiling. After hours of being covered in blood and my own puke, it felt heavenly to have it washed off of me. I didn't even care it was soaking my rag dress, all I wanted to do was stand there and let the water wash off everything that happened tonight.

But Waylon nudged me forward and I returned back to reality.

As we re-entered the dining room, it was pitch black, but with both camcorders on night vision, we were able to make it through the room. Most of the wood was still hot, so we had to be extra careful not to touch it.

Gradually, we made it to the kitchen door and opened it to find the lights on and it was completely dry.

"Alright," Miles sighed, leading us inside. "Let go look for Father Mar-AH!"

Suddenly, the pyromaniac jumped out from behind the wall and grabbed Miles by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth while screaming his head off.

I was about to dash forward, but Waylon beat me to it and yanked him off of Miles. With a feral growl, the pyromaniac gave Waylon a rough push to the ground before racing back out to the dining room and slamming the door behind him.

Not a second later, I hurried to Miles' side, checking to see if he was alright.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," He groaned, rubbing his shoulders while glancing at Waylon who was rubbing his back. "Hey…thanks, Park."

"No problem." Waylon smiled before climbing to his feet. "Guess he wasn't happy we put out his hard work."

"Guess not." I whispered, scanning the empty kitchen and rubbing my side, my drenched state and the sudden change in temperature made the room feel like the artic.

If only I still had my own clothes.

"Here." Miles came up and placed his jacket around my shoulders. "This should keep you warm."

I shook my head and tried to give it back to him, but he held firm.

"Young-ja, you are wearing **the least **out of all of us. Be reasonable, alright?"

I had no choice but to agree and I nodded, rubbing my nose against the collar.

The guys scavenged the kitchen for any supplies but found it had been cleaned out; Miles did however find a bowl of fingers.

"Fuck," He snapped, slamming the bowl onto the counter in disgust. "I've said it before, but fuck this place." Then he held up his hands and stared at his own severed digits with a somber gaze. "I've still got those fingers left at least…"

I glanced down at my nub with the same amount of sorrow before moving to glance out the window.

It was pitch black and pouring.

'How long have we been here? It's….it's like we're in purgatory where time doesn't start or stop…'

After establishing the uselessness of the kitchen, we pressed forward and went down the adjacent hallway. It was dark, but I could still make out a familiar sight: the hallway where Trager murdered Felix and dragged me away to his torture room. My stomach churned at the memories, and I held Miles' jacket closer to myself.

"Hey, is it just me or is the hallway getting colder?" Waylon asked aloud, rubbing his arms and neck.

At that moment, we turned the corner and saw the exit door hanging wide open, leading out into the harsh storm.

"Nah, it's just you, Park." Miles said. "…Well, I guess the senile bastard is waiting for us out there. Let's go."

Just as he took a step forward, I reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Wha-?"

"It…is pouring out..there." I croaked out, handing the jacket to him. "Hold the jacket…over all three of…us. I can…hold your camcorder."

"But you are more im-."

"She is right, Miles." Waylon interrupted, taking Miles' camcorder and giving it to me. "It will be easier for us to see if we all use the jacket as an umbrella."

"Who said you could call me by my first name, Park?" Miles snapped, but took his jacket anyways and held it over all three of us while Waylon and I snuggled up next to him, bracing ourselves.

"You guys ready?"

"Yeah." We said in unison, and with that, we raced out into the raging storm.

* * *

**A/N: We are now at the Courtyard segment! Look forward to the next chapter!**


	52. Young-ja's Relapse

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please!**

**I welcome all new and returning readers!**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

(Young-ja)

The harsh rain was like thick needles piercing my flesh the further we ran through the storm. Even with the night vision and Miles' jacket, it was still difficult to see anything with the rain and wind ramming against our faces.

"**Hey!**" Miles screamed as we approached a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. "**Where are you, you psychotic bastard?!**"

"Father Martin might be hiding in one of the sheds!" Waylon shouted over the storm and pointed towards a small shed to our left. "We can try there!"

The three of us hurried into the tiny shed and slammed the door behind us. It was a utility shed from the looks of it.

"This might come in handy." Miles reached out and plucked a key off a hook. It had the words "Maintenance" inscribed near the ring hole.

"Maybe," Waylon replied, scanning the shed with his camcorder before laughing suddenly. "Heh, the shed's caretaker must've been an 'Evil Dead' fan." He gestured towards a crudely drawn chainsaw scribbled on the top shelf.

As the guys continued to investigate, I suddenly felt this chill run through my body. It wasn't brought on by the rain, but this feeling that….someone else was here. Something that made this copper taste form in my mouth, and as the chill grew, this…**buzzing** began to ring in my ears.

Like television static echoing through my brain and gradually…tearing down my spine like nails on a chalkboard.

Getting louder…

And louder…

And **L..ou..De..r..**

"Young-ja?!" Miles' voice shattered through the static and I blinked, my vision slowly clearing up. "Are you alright?! You suddenly collasped!"

I looked around, noticing that I indeed was on the ground and my nails were digging into my thigh, drawing blood.

"I-I'm…fine.." I whispered, my heart pounding in my ears. "I just…felt..a little…dizzy."

"Don't give me any of that shit, Young-ja." Miles whispered as he helped me up. "Tell me what is wrong."

My eyes connected with Waylon's concerned ones, who was standing behind Miles, and I saw recognition flash across his eyes, and my heart froze for a moment.

Did he also….?

"Upshur, I think it is best if we find Father Martin as soon as possible." Then he placed his hand on Miles' shoulder and leaned in close to whisper, "I don't think we're the only ones in the Courtyard…."

Miles' posture stiffened and he immediately glanced towards the door, as if he could hear something.

Could he….could they have also heard…?

"Yeah. Let's hurry then." He held his jacket over all three of us once more, and we sprinted back into the now violent thunderstorm.

The ice cold wind swirled around us and ripped its frozen claws through our skin with every step we took.

The wind carried whispers on it too. Whispers I had heard before.

'Oh no….**Oh God no..**'

As we approached the fountain from before, a flash of lighting hit and I could see a familiar dark figure fly back.

"**No!**" I screamed, shoving the three of us off the cobblestone path and into the trees and grass.

"What the-?!"

"**Run!**" I cried, my throat burning and my heart threating to beat out of my chest.

'It couldn't be. No! No! It's all my imagination! It's not him! **It's not him!**"

Suddenly, Miles forced us to stop in front of a large stairway, and he grabbed me by my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eye. His jacket flopped onto the cold cobblestone, thus soaking the three of us to the bone.

"**What the hell is going on?!**" Miles cried, his expression a mixture of fear and worry. "**Tell me!**"

"Upshur, this is not the time! We need to keep go-!"

"Do you expect to me press on when my wife looks like she's seen a fucking ghost?! Young-ja, answer me!"

All I could do was stare at him with wide eyes as the memories of the Morphogenic Chamber flashed through my mind.

The never ending buzzing of the machine…the cruel, lifeless eyes of its one occupant who had long forgotten his humanity…the feelings of nanobites swarming across my body as I was thrown around the room…..be..for..e..

"Young-ja?! You are shaking! Park, we ne-!"

"I…tried to reason…with him.." I whispered, staring at nothing and everything. "But…he mistook me..for…and he…."

_"Billy, stop it!"_

_The Walrider jerked my arm roughly before slamming its other hand over my face, muffling my screams._

_Then, The Walrider began wrenching at my arm, causing me to scream bloody murder at the shearing pain._

_It pulled harder and harder like it was trying to-._

_My eyes snapped open, and my heart fell to my stomach._

_**"BILLY! NO!"**_

_I could feel my bones cracking as the pain grew and grew until-._

_**"BILLY!"**_

"**Young-ja!"** Miles screamed as I fell against him and clung to his shirt for dear life, my tears mixing with the rain pouring onto my face. "Are y-?!"

"Can't…you..hear…it?" I mumbled, the static pulsing through my brain once more. "Make it stop." I whimpered, burying my face into his shoulder. "Please…make…it…go…away…"

Miles just held me tight, completely at loss of words.

"Hey, Upshur.." I could hear Waylon whisper off to the side. "I…I think there is something here for you."

Miles and I both turned our heads in his direction to see Waylon with a piece of paper in his hands.

"I thought I…'heard'….something so I went to investigate and I found a message nailed onto the wall and…I think Father Martin left it for you."

Miles said nothing, just reached out and took the soaked piece of paper from Waylon's hand. In turn, Waylon immediately bent down and picked up Miles' drenched jacket and held it above us, though the gesture seemed to stem more from comfort than practicality.

"I don't even know your name. But I've come to think of you as one of my blood, my Paul, I hope you don't mind. And I hope you don't indulge the vanity of self-pity, the fear that your suffering is more than others'. We all must endure this, and you are nearly done. There's no way to heaven but by the cross. And every man needs another to help drive the nails in. I am here for you. I am waiting up ahead. Let the angel be your guide so she may be free to return to Paradise. And may the shepherd serve you well so he may find his flock." said the note.

Miles slowly crumpled the saturated note into a ball before throwing it away, mumbling a "Kiss my ass" under his breath.

"Looks like Father Martin is leading us on a wild goose chase." Waylon sighed, jumping slightly when another flash of lightning hit.

"Where is the bastard hiding then?"

"Um…" Waylon rubbed his temples, trying to remember the layout of the asylum. "The next building over is the Female Ward. My guess is that he is waiting for us in there."

"Hmm," was Miles' only reply as he brushed my damp hair away from my face. "You're still shaking."

Being in Miles' arms helped to ease the static and memories for a moment and I felt a little embarrassed at my breakdown.

'I have to be strong…I promised Ae-cha to bring her daddy home…Repress it, Young-ja. Just repress everything..'

"Let's…go." I breathed, stepping out of my husband's protective grip. "The quicker…we find…Father Martin..the quicker we all can go home."

* * *

(Waylon)

I knew what Young-ja was feeling. I could sense it the minute we stepped out into the courtyard.

The Morphogenic images flashed across my eyes, and that accursed buzzing filled my soul once more; The Walrider was close by.

When she collapsed in the tool shed and began digging her fingers in her thigh, I knew she could hear it too. I even saw Miles look back a few times, as if he could hear something. He made no act of showing it though, maybe because he didn't want to acknowledge it or was too busy concentrating on Young-ja. The fear and pain on her face was palpable, and when we made eye contact, I felt my heart drop as the pieces seemed to fall together.

'Was…..was the Walrider the one who took her arm?'

I tried to convince myself otherwise, but when Young-ja panicked at the sight of the Walrider and broke down in Miles' arm, I knew my suspicions were true.

And I felt the guilt in my heart begin to spread across my chest.

Just what the hell did she go through while I was knocked out? And despite all of that, she…still came back for me.

I had to walk away so Miles wouldn't see my face and kill me right then and there. I was already beating myself up about it. Wasn't that punishment enough?

'Oh, Lisa, what the hell have I done to them? It's my fault they are here in the first place' I groaned and ran my fingers through my soaked hair, wanting to scream my lungs out.

I reached the top of the stairway and was about to take a seat when I noticed something scribbled on the wall in blood.

**How Alive Are You?**

"I don't know to be honest." I scoffed, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation. "I don't know how alive **any of us** are to be honest."

Then, in the corner of my eye, I spotted a piece of paper flapping in the harsh breeze. As I investigated closer and read the first line, I knew it was a message from Father Martin and hurried down the stairs with it. Though I didn't want to interrupt them, I knew we had to keep moving forward, so I showed them the note and we started planning our next move.

"Let's…go." Young-ja's voice was so weak and raspy that it just made me feel worse. "The quicker…we find…Father Martin..the quicker we all can go home."

Though she was covered in gashes, bruises, missing an arm, and could barely walk straight, I could still see the determination in her eyes to get through this Hell and go home with her husband to their baby.

'Young-ja Upshur, you are one of the strongest women I know.' I thought to myself with a smile. 'You're a lot like Lisa in a sense.'

Miles Upshur, ever the protective husband, insisted on holding her close as we moved forward, and despite my annoyances at the man, I did think it was very sweet that a hard ass like Miles ensured his wife's safety above all.

Suddenly, the buzzing and whispering returned in full force and all three of us could clearly see a black figure hovering above the fountain before fading away.

"What the fu-?!"

"Time to go." I mumbled, pushing the two of them forward with all my might toward the other side of the courtyard.

What I assumed to be the maintenance shed came into view and Miles quickly unlocked the door before hurrying inside.

"Where to next, Mr. Programmer?" Miles asked, changing out the batteries in his camcorder.

"I guess this door leads out to the Female Ward." I opened the adjacent door….only to see the Walrider racing towards me.

I slammed the door shut and flew backward, taking Miles and Young-ja with me.

"What the-?!"

"Shut up!" I hissed, pressing them against the wall. "…We've got company."

At that moment, the emergency lights flickered out, and the Walrider crawled out from under the door.

"Oh God…" Miles gasped, almost dropping his camcorder. "Is that the….?"

"..Walrider.." Young-ja answered, shaking like a leaf once again.

It stared at us with its bright, white eyes, like it was sizing us up one by one. Then, when it turned towards Young-ja, its' eyes widened and it pointed towards her with a long claw.

"Mom…my.." It growled, echoing throughout the room.

"What?" Miles and I asked in unison, but before we could blink, the Walrider let out an ear splitting scream and the three of us were thrown upwards and slammed against the ceiling before falling to the ground.

The Walrider let out one last roar before disappearing through the floorboards.

"Ngh!" I winced, propping myself up on my elbows and rubbing my head. "You guys alright?"

Miles didn't answer me, just scurried towards Young-ja's unconscious form.

"Young-ja! Young-ja, open your eyes!" He gathered her into his arms and shook her gently, looking like he close to tears.

I hurried and crouched down next to him, placing my fingers against her neck.

"She is fine, but she hit her head pretty hard." I let out a sigh of relief. "She will probably come to in a few minutes."

"What…what did the Walrider call her?" Miles whispered, holding her close.

I stared at him for a moment before closing my eyes.

"He…he….called her 'mother'."

"I thought so," Miles breathed out before shifting her onto his back and standing up. "Park, I leave the recording to you until we get inside the female ward. Can **I trust you** to do that?"

I didn't miss the hint of animosity laced in his words, but I took it anyways and just nodded.

"You have my word." I promised, placing Miles' jacket over Young-ja's body. "Believe me when I say that."

* * *

Getting to the Female Ward was difficult enough considering it was pouring and we had to walk on the rooves several times, but it was extra tedious since Young-ja was knocked out and Miles had to make sure not to drop her, especially when the pathways were slippery and narrow.

But what made it so much worse was Chris Walker was chasing after us. And I learned just how colorful Miles' vocabulary was.

Luckily we slid under a hole in the wall, stopping the chase, and dived through an open window in the Female Ward, getting out of the rain and arriving at our destination.

And you know who was waiting for us?

Father Martin.

"You saw the Walrider, didn't you?!" He called out to us from the upper floor. "You're beginning to understand, but not yet! Even Abraham had to cast his eyes to the ground, but soon, **soon!** This way. Revelation is at hand!" And he raced off into the darkness once again.

"**Wait a moment, you son of a bitch!**" Miles called after him, but he was gone and we were left alone in the dark hallway.

I turned to the right and saw a tiny linen closet.

I nudged Miles' shoulder and pointed towards it.

"Let's dry up and rest in there for a moment. It will give Young-ja a chance to wake up too."

There were no objections from him and we locked ourselves in the tiny closet. I settled myself on one side, wrapped in a linen blanket, while Miles sat across from me with Young-ja in his lap, both of them cocooned in a large linen blanket. Miles' jacket hung off the edge of one of the cabinets.

It was a rare moment of peace, a long awaited one actually and I let my head fall back against the wall and I closed my eyes, praying to God that this would be all over soon.

'Please…just let us live through this. **Please.**"

* * *

**A/N: The 'Evil Dead' thing is actually an Easter egg in Outlast. Check it out on Youtube. Warning: it is a very gory movie! This chapter was to show Young-ja mental state. Those who have played the game, you know during the Courtyard part is where Miles starts to hear the Morphogenic Engine and it really starts affecting him. In a sense, it is starting to really affect Young-ja too. She has been repressing it because she had to find Miles and Waylon, but now with them and seeing the Walrider again, she is slowly starting to lose her sanity. And while she was angry at first (still is), Young-ja is truly afraid of Billy/Walrider now. Who wouldn't be afraid of the creature that tore your arm off and left you to bleed out in the basement? Imagine her feelings when Miles becomes the Walrider….. And this chapter also looked into Waylon's mind on the matter. I always thought if Waylon knew Miles actually came after him (and add Young-ja in the mix), he would probably feel terrible for being the reason bad things happened to them. So, long story short, very emotional chapter and everything sucks for the characters. **

**Look forward to the next one! Miles and Waylon finally have a heart-to-heart chat!**


	53. Heart to Heart

**A/N: Thank you so much for your lovely and awesome reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! I just finished my finals and am now on winter break! So expect to see some more updates soon!**

**I welcome all readers, new and old! **

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

(Waylon)

The rain continued to pound against the window, like it was trying to break through the glass and drags us back out into Hell once more.

Even though I had dried off a while back, I still felt cold and tugged the blanket closer. The small linen closet was completely dark, save for the dim lightbulb twirling above our heads. So, even in the poor lighting, the closet was small enough that I could still see the couple sitting across from me clearly.

Both of them were fast asleep. Young-ja was settled on Miles' lap and Miles was holding onto her tightly even in slumber, a huge linen blanket wrapped around them. If they weren't covered in dirt and blood, it would've been a heartwarming picture. As I observed their sleeping faces, devoid of fear and anger, it really hit me how young they were. The **oldest** they had to be was at most thirty, and I was quickly reminded that **I** was the eldest of our odd trio.

The guilt consuming my heart grew substantially at that realization, and I drew my knees to my chest and buried my face against them.

'**Oh, Lisa**. What am I going to do?'

"Undressing me with your eyes, Park?" Miles' deep voice rang out. "Sorry but I'm happily married."

I immediately looked up, only to find him still with his eyes closed.

"Are...you…talking in your sleep?" I asked, hesitantly, not wanting to wake him up if he was.

"What made you think I was asleep?" This time Miles opened his eyes, his dark green eyes leering at me from five feet away. "It is pretty hard to sleep when there is someone glaring holes into my face."

"Sorry." I muttered, pulling my knees closer to my chest, wishing Miles would at least cross his legs so I could have some more room in the cramped sanctuary. "I was just…noticing how young you guys are. It is kinda surreal to be the eldest, I guess."

"You're talking like your ancient, Park." Miles snorted, resting his head against the wall. "You look pretty young yourself actually, must be your Korean half that preserves your youthfulness and boyish beauty."

I cracked a tiny smile at that.

"Maybe so, but 'No pictorial or sculptural combinations of points of human loveliness, do more than approach the living and breathing human beauty as it gladdens our daily path'."

"…Come again?"

"Oh, sorry." I chuckled to myself, partially for my ramblings and partially for Miles' confused expression. "It is from "The Landscape Garden" by Edgar Allan Poe. It was one of his more unknown stories about a man who dies young, but emphasizes on the pursuit of happiness under certain immaterial conditions."

"You seem to be quite a fan of his. Read lots of his stories in high school?"

"Yeah, I liked his work to an extent, but I didn't really get into Poe's work until I met my wife. We used to read all his stories and poems during our dating years at her grandfather's bookstore." I smiled softly, reminiscing about the hours we spent nestled in the store's reading nook, swapping books and discussing our thoughts on them. And I'll never forget how tongue tied I always got peeking at Lisa's beautiful face from behind my book. The way the sun made her caramel brown hair seem auburn, how her eyes sparkled when she reached an interesting part of the story, and her radiant smile when she'd catch me admiring her and we'd both laugh and cover our blushing faces with our books.

God, I miss you so much, Lisa…

"Hmm. How nice." Miles muttered under his breath, and for some reason, I felt the room turn 20 degrees cooler.

We were silent after that, the elephant in the room lurking about despite our small talk just moments prior.

"So," Miles spoke up again, making me jump slightly in surprise. "Young-ja told me you have a family waiting for you too."

"Yeah, my wife, Lisa, and our two sons, Owen and Nick."

"How old are they?"

"Owen is eight and Nick just turned six." A warm feeling blossomed in my chest and I wanted nothing more than to have them in my arms once more. "Nick is like any first grader, curious about the world, believes in following the rules, and still has that adorable, childish innocence. Sometimes he comes up with nicknames for people based off fairy tales and such. If he knew about Chris Walker, he'd probably call him the "Big Bad Wolf" or something close to that. And he follows his big brother around like a little duckling. It is adorable really. As for my eldest son, Owen, he is getting to that age where kids develop a rebellious streak, but he is respectful too and knows when to listen to his parents. He is really smart too. For his last science fair project, he built a functioning prosthetic arm all by himself. It is sitting on the shelf in his room, blue ribbon still attached. Owen tells me he is waiting for the right person to give it to. He may be only eight, but that boy has a heart as big as space itself. And he takes his role as a 'big brother' very seriously. I'm happy that Owen is a good role model for Nick and takes care of him, but sometimes, I feel like he is trying to grow up too fast. I have to remind him sometimes to enjoy being a kid, and don't sweat the adult stuff for a while. Besides, it would be strange if my son started filing taxes or something."

I laughed and peeked up at Miles, the smile slowly creeping off my face at the unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. Sorrow? Anger? Or this that….**empathy**?

"Does your family know what happened to you?" He gestured towards my patient jumpsuit and I felt my chest grow warm for another reason.

"After sending you that e-mail, I was caught by Jeremy Blaire, my former boss and head of the asylum, and he subjected me to the Morphogenic Dream Therapy. It is hazy, but I recall a breakout happening and I was able to escape. While I was wandering around the asylum, I found an e-mail from Blaire saying that he visited my family and said I had succumbed to a mental illness and was receiving treatment. Of course, Lisa didn't buy any of his bullshit and is trying to help me through power of attorney. I would've loved to see the look on Blaire's fucking face when she told him off. Then, the e-mail said he would…take care of her personally if she tried to get around him." My fingers curled into fists at the thought of Blair laying his hands on Lisa and our children. "Over my dead body."

"Well, Park." Miles kicked my foot roughly. "Considering how a majority of the staff is literally scattered around the asylum, I don't think you have to worry about Blaire going after your family. Which is a shame because I would've loved to beat the shit out of him."

When he said 'family', Miles glanced down at Young-ja and I felt my heart constrict painfully.

"You…you guys have a daughter, right? What is she like?"

"Her name is Ae-cha. She is two year old who looks so much like her mother, yet she has my eyes. She loves to pick flowers and play hide-and-go-seek every single waking moment. Every time I try to work, the little Cheerio comes knocking on my office door and burrows herself onto my lap, begging me to play with her." Though he was 'complaining', there was nothing but pure adoration in his tone. "She also loves to copy us and pretend she is a 'big girl' by helping us with laundry and dishes, although she does nothing but sit in the laundry basket or bang pans together. And Young-ja would never get angry. No, she loves our baby more than air and would simply pick her up and twirl around. And I would watch the two of them laughing and smiling, and would feel so fucking happy at the sight and I promised myself to always keep them safe from harm…" His voice trailed off at the end, and he held Young-ja close, kissing her forehead with nothing but pain in his eyes. "No harm was supposed to come to you…"

And the guilt consumed by body and soul as the elephant began stampeding throughout the room, demanding recognition.

So, I finally said it.

"Miles, you blame me for what's happened to you and Young-ja, don't you?"

Miles made no indication that he heard me, and I wasn't sure if he did, then he slowly turned towards me and his glare could kill.

"Why didn't you do anything about this earlier?"

"W-What? I di-."

"Why didn't you report this to the fucking police the moment you starting working here?"

"Miles, I-."

"What the fucking hell possessed you to **work for Murkoff anyways?!**" His voice grew louder with every syllable. "**You told me you were a big fan in the e-mail, so you should've known about the research I did about Murkoff! You should've known about the corrupt dealings! So why?! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WORKING FOR MURKOFF?! AND WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET THIS GO ON FOR SO LONG?!"**

With Young-ja still in his lap, he had leaned over and bunched the front of my jumpsuit in his hands, yanking me up to his face and shaking me back and forth. I had long expected his wrath, so I let him scream in my face and rattle me around.

But…I had to explain myself. I owned him and Young-ja that at least.

"I…I had..my reasons-." I started, but I was sent back against the wall as Miles' fist connected with my cheek. Miles panted furiously, his eyes livid, but…I didn't say anything. I just lifted my hand and gingerly touched the laceration on my cheek from where the jagged bone jutting from Miles' knuckle tore across my cheek.

"**Fuck your reasons. Because of you…my wife lost her arm. SHE LOST HER FUCKING ARM, WAYLON! I HAVE KNOWN HER SINCE COLLEGE AND BEING A MUSICIAN HAS ALWAYS BEEN HER DREAM! HOW THE FUCK IS SHE GOING TO PLAY THE VIOLIN AND PIANO NOW?! SHE HAS SPENT YEARS WORKING TOWARDS HER DREAM, AND NOW SHE CAN BARELY TALK OR FUCKING WALK BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T PROTECT HER!" **He lashed out once more, this time punching the wall next to my head. **"THE TWO OF YOU RAN INTO EACH OTHER RIGHT?! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER, BUT YOU GOT YOUR FUCKING ASS CAUGHT AND YOU LEFT HER IN THE HANDS OF THAT MUTILATING BASTARD! WHEN I FOUND HER, SHE COULDN'T EVEN SPEAK! HER THROAT WAS TORN UP AND HER BODY WAS BEATEN INTO A BODY PULP! YOUNG-JA HAD BEEN ATTACKED SEVERAL TIMES, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?! SHE STILL ASKED ME TO COME GET YOU! THE MAN WHO GOT US INTO THIS FUCKING MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE!"**

He lifted his fists into the air once more, and I screwed my eyes shut, bracing myself for another blow.

…..But it never came.

I slowly opened my eyes and found Miles back against the opposite wall, his face buried against Young-ja's neck and his shoulders quivering.

All the fury was gone from his eyes and nothing but pure desolation remained.

"Miles," I reached out towards him, but he spoke up, stopping me in my tracks.

"I become an investigative journalist because of all the evil I saw in the world. I was tired of hearing about big corporations covering their tracks and letting innocent people suffer. And so, I achieved my dream. I uncovered hundreds of corrupt dealings with no regards towards my own safety as long as the truth was out. But…then I got married and a baby was put into my arms. Protecting the innocent was still my dream, but my family became the highest priority. I've made my fair share of enemies due to my line of work, but I made sure to protect my family above all." He leaned back and stared at the wall above me. "I started taking easier jobs after Ae-cha was born, jobs about faulty wiring in hotels instead of under the table drug dealings at Enron Corps. It wasn't the justice I craved for, but it paid the bills and kept my family safe and that was all that matter to me. But, Murkoff….they were another ball game. Murkoff was the only corporation I had been following closely for the past four years. They were the epitome of everything I hated and I became obsessed with taking them down. I promised myself that if I could make a fatal dent in Murkoff, I would stop being an investigative journalist and move onto a different line of work. I could retire, content that I was able to take down one of the most powerful corporations of the 21st century. But then the case in Ghana happened, and I witness the true repercussions of my work. I had never seen Young-ja cry so hard before and my resolve began to waver. But, Young-ja, like she has always done, continued to support me and knew this is what I love to do. So, I renewed my resolve, vowing to take down Murkoff in her and Ae-cha's honor. Then your e-mail came in and I thought I could end this nightmare in one night. But….instead, I walked into another one….and I dragged my wife down with me." His face was blank and lifeless, but as he continued to speak, tears…began to roll down his cheeks. "I can blame you all I want for what has happened here tonight, but….in the end, I can blame no one but myself. I'm the one who drove here in the dead of night, despite Young-ja's pleas for me to stay at home. I'm the one who worried my wife so much that she came after me and almost got herself killed." Then his eyes shifted towards mine and I felt my blood freeze. "When Young-ja told me you were still here, I wanted to leave you to rot because I was so fucking angry at everything that blaming you seemed to make everything better. I blamed you for Young-ja's arm, my fingers, and what happened to the patients. Then, she told me you had a family too, and I felt so disgusted with myself that it made me hate you more. While I may not understand your reasons for choosing Murkoff of all companies to work for, I can understand that you and I are motivated by the same thing: our families. And you said so in your e-mail that you didn't know what was going on exactly, but you knew it wasn't right and e-mailed me so the truth could come out. You did what you had to, Waylon, so…" Miles gently closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hating you and treating you like shit. You did nothing to deserve this."

I couldn't even bring myself to smile at his apology, instead I found myself crying alongside him, feeling his pain with mine.

"I'm sorry too, Miles. Truly I am."

Then, slowly, I reached out and took his hand in mine, giving it a small shake.

"Murkoff has done quite the number on us, huh? So, let's give them a taste of their own medicine and give them hell." I gave a shaky smile, wanting to see that powerful gleam in his eyes once more.

Miles cracked a smile at that and squeezed my hand in acknowledgement.

"Sounds like fucking plan."

We laughed and I felt a sense of purity spread throughout the room now that we have gotten rid of our bottled up feelings and could focus on a common goal: bringing Murkoff down and getting the fuck out of here.

I was about to pull my hand away when Miles' grip tighten and I blinked in surprised.

"Wh-?"

"Hey, Park, now that we are on the same page, there is something I need to ask of you."

"…What is it?"

"What I am about to ask you is very important. You have to promise to go through with it no matter what, alright?"

A sense of dread crawled up my spine at his words, and my palms began to sweat.

But, I didn't question it. I just steeled myself and looked him straight in the eye, hoping whatever he was about to ask wasn't something life threating.

"…Alright. I promise."

* * *

**A/N: An emotional chapter but Waylon and Miles just needed a good heart to heart chat and let out their frustrations, especially Miles because Holy Shit, lots of shit has happened to this man. They can now see that they aren't that different from each other. Both of them love their families and that is their motivating factor. Now they can focus on the real goal: getting out of the asylum and showing their footage to the world! Please look forward to the next chapter! There is more action, less drama! Lol!**


	54. Past Observations

**A/N: Thank you so much for you reviews and support! I hope my story will continue to please you!**

**I welcome new and old readers! Please enjoy!**

* * *

(Young-ja)

When I finally woke up, it was to dead silence and a piercing headache.

As I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the pain to numb away, everything slowly came back to me. Seeing the Walrider in the Courtyard, the buzzing static, and confronting the creature in that shed where it started screaming and we were torn back, and then….**darkness.**

'I let myself crumble into a sobbing mess and got knocked out as a result.' I mentally groaned. 'How careless of me.'

Slowly, the pain faded away and I opened my eyes to see Miles and Waylon ogling each other with serious expressions. Their glares weren't covered with the usual animosity, but with misery and….**understanding**?

'Just what happened while I was asleep?'

"Guys.." I whispered and both of them immediately whipped their heads down in my direction.

"Young-ja!" Miles gasped, brushing my hair back and kissing my forehead with a feather like touch. "Are you alright? You've been out for a while."

"I'm…sorry." I hummed, letting Miles help me sit up as the world was still spinning a bit. "Where…are…we?"

"We are in a closet inside the Female Ward." Waylon replied, his hand covering his cheek. "After you got knocked out, Miles carried you across the Courtyard until we wound up here. Father Martin greeted us from the second floor and told us to follow him, but we decided to hide in here and dry off for a bit first."

"W-wait.." I stuttered, my brain still trying to catch up with being conscious. "Are you saying Miles," I pointed to my husband. "that Miles…**carried me** in the pouring rain?"

"No, _cara mia_." Miles said, taking my hand in his. "I dragged you through the mud-**Of course I carried you! What kind of husband would I be if I didn't?!**"

"Thank you then." I sighed before glancing back over at Waylon. "Were we..attacked?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your…cheek is bleeding."

"O-oh…well, I.." Waylon stuttered, like he was trying to come up with an excuse before finally sighing and lowering his hand. "I did something stupid. That is all."

The blood had smeared across his cheek and dried, but even so, I could tell whatever hurt Waylon cut him deep enough to leave a scar. I also noticed Miles' left knuckle was freshly cut up too. After observing Miles and Waylon's uncomfortable gazes, I decided to let it go.

For now.

"Well, I..think it is best..if we push forward now." I stated, scooting out of Miles' lap. "I'm…so fucking tired..of this place."

"Agreed." They said in unison, and we all stood up.

"Hey, Short Stack. Stay still." Miles requested before taking the blanket we were using and wrapping it around my shoulders and tying it together, making a make-shift poncho. "There. This should keep you warm until we can catch up with Father Martin."

I gave him a grateful smile and watched as the two men grabbed their camcorders and Miles slipped his jacket back on.

'I can't be afraid anymore. I can't let the asylum get to me. Not when freedom was within our grasp. Just a little longer, Young-ja. Just a little longer….'

* * *

As our odd trio stepped back out into the dark hallway, it felt like the warm bed covers had been ripped off of us and we were once again exposed to the cold world.

"The old bastard said to meet him upstairs, so there should be a staircase nearby." Miles muttered under his breath. "_Picles_, are you familiar with the outline of the Female Ward?"

"Okay, one, no. The Female Ward has been closed for decades. Two, did you just call me a pickle in Portuguese? I thought we were on good terms now."

"We are. I only give nicknames to people I like."

"Then shouldn't my nickname be breakfast related like Young-ja's, your daughter's, and your dog's?"

"Don't rush our relationship, _Picles._ You'll get a breakfast nickname once you've earned it."

Waylon opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it and just sighed in annoyance.

Although their banter wasn't all that different from before, there was a sense of amusement and familiarity laced in their tones and I once again found myself wondering that happened while I was asleep.

We ventured down the dark hallway, the paint peeling off the walls and the floorboards nearly rotten to the core. Miles and Waylon were walking on both sides of me, scanning the hallway with their camcorders. At the end of the hallway, there was a boarded up door and I halted to a stop when I realized someone was watching us from the other side. The guys immediately took notice and followed my line of sight.

The mysterious figure stared at us a moment longer before racing off to the side.

"For fuck's sake, please don't tell me we are being hunted again." Miles cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sick of being chased by machete wielding guys with their dicks hanging out."

"We should just stick to well-lit areas then." Waylon offered, staring at the end of the hallway with an uneasy gaze.

So we carried on, now with more caution in our step. The sounds of machines churning their gears echoed down the hallway, and I thought it was the infernal static emerging once more until Miles spoke up.

"I know that sound.." He whispered, hoping over a cracked windowsill while Waylon and I followed suit. We stood in a small laundry room and found the source of the churning. An old fashion wringer washing machine, the type you see in those 1930s cartoons, was vibrating as something fumbled about inside it. I didn't need to investigate closer to see what was inside—the smell of blood mixed with bleach informed me perfectly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Waylon sighed, filming the washer's contents while Miles stumbled off to the side, his hand over his eyes. I went to his side and placed my hand on his cheek, silently asking him if something was wrong. His face was pinched up like he was in horrible pain and sweat was dripping down his brow as his breath became labored.

"I'm fine, Young-ja." Miles groaned, removing my hand from his face and stepping away from the wall he was leaning against. "I just have a minor headache. It must be the fumes or something."

I didn't buy that for a minute but I never got a chance to confront him because a figure raced by the cracked window and nearly scared the three of us to death.

'Perhaps we **were** being hunted again.'

We hurried into the next room, finding it to be full of laundry baskets and moldy towels. There was door that led out to the main hallway, but we made sure to look both ways before running out.

"Alright, I think they may be a stairwell at the end of this hal-."

Suddenly, the lights above us began to flicker as someone stomped around on the upper floor before they went out completely, leaving us in total darkness.

"What? Are they playing extreme tag in here?" Miles glared at the ceiling before flicking the camcorder's night vision on and leading the way down the hallway.

As it turns out, Waylon was correct and there was indeed a stairwell at the end of the hallway.

A stairwell **missing its stairs**.

"Nice going, _Picles._"

"Please shut up, Miles."

There were several boxes stacked up behind the stairway, so we raided them in hopes of finding something useful but all there was were files and documents. I picked up one of them and Waylon shined his light on it as he read it aloud:

"**Brief introduction to WALRIDER mythology for M.R.D. Support Staff**

**The Murkoff Corp.**

**NOTE - this is for support/notational purposes only, engage in NO direct contact with patients during or after therapy.**

**The WALRIDER, also known as an "Alp," or "Mara," or "Schrat," is a demonic creature of German origin that torments sleepers. They crouch on a sleeper's chest and crush the breath from him. The sleeper wakes terrified, paralyzed, and asphyxiating. The name "Mara" gives us the word "nightmare." Sexual assaults by the demon are rare, but it has been known to drink the milk from breasts of sleeping women, and blood from the nipples of sleeping men.**"

"What kind of gross shit is that?" Miles spat out in disgust. "It **drinks blood** from **peoples' nipples**?!"

"And breast milk too.." I added on, covering my chest with my arm involuntarily. "Why would…Murkoff..want to create…something like that? I know it is for profit but…what profit is there…in a literal nightmare?"

Miles and I both looked at Waylon expectedly.

"I just work here, guys!" He threw his hands in the air. "I'm not the Murkoff Wikipedia! I just clocked in, did my job, and that's it!"

"Explains why it took you forever to bring this to my attention."

"**Please** shut up, Miles."

We continued to shuffle through the boxes, finding most of the documents to be blacked out or scribbled over. However, the few that were still intact appeared to be MKULTRA documents from days when the CIA was doing research on human behavior at Mount Massive. I don't know much about MKULTRA, just what Miles' told me while he was researching Mount Massive and Murkoff. The main goal of the CIA's experiments was to learn about human behavioral patterns through hypnotic and sleep techniques and apply their findings to war and agency matters. The revival of Mount Massive by Murkoff and their Walrider project was probably an attempt to pick up where the CIA left off. Murkoff even got hands on Wernicke's research to make matters worse.

**Wernicke…..**

Is Billy still keeping him prisoner in that glass box? If we escape here, what will become of him? Will he rot in that room with Billy as his eternal protector before dying along with his inhumane creations and research? Perhaps it would be better that way. Let the man die here and let Murkoff and the Walrider die with him.

"Why are all these documents here anyways?" Waylon asked aloud. "I heard they were destroyed back in the 70s after the MKULTRA scandal."

"A majority of the documents were." Miles replied, flipping through a folder of blacked out files. "Richard Helms, CIA director at the time, ordered all of them to be destroyed. Perhaps to hide their wrongdoings or perhaps to make sure no one got their hands on their findings. Yet, it seems some of the MKLUTRA scientists kept some of their research, maybe in hopes of reviving it someday. You said so yourself that the Female Ward has been closed for decades. It is a perfect hiding place."

"But so many of these files and documents are ruined. How did they plan on continuing their research if they destroyed their ideas?"

"Ideas are bulletproof. Even though the CIA's project was shut down and Wernicke died, the Walrider Project lives on through the bastards like Murkoff who have the same selfish desires as their predecessors."

Waylon's eyes widened in mix of admiration and understanding, but I was frozen in place at Miles' words.

'What do you mean Wernicke is dead? He is in the base—Oh!... I forgot Wernicke's death was faked, and no one except Murkoff knows! I better tell them!'

I opened my mouth but was quickly cut off by Waylon bellowing, "Hey! Look at this!".

Miles immediately went to Waylon's side, and I tried to speak up again but was interrupted by Miles reading the document aloud:

"**Date: 12 October 1968**

**B.L.U.E.B.I.R.D. PROJECT LOG**

**Filed by: Dr. Marshall Mathers**

**Patient 092 showed promising results today. After some tweaks to the hypothalamus and hippocampus and some trial and error, Patient 092's emotional and memory fluctuations were optimal. After enough 'gentle' prodding, we were able to override the anger threshold and Patient 092 successfully slaughter Patient 112 by jamming crochet needles through his eyes and ripping out his sternocleidomastoid muscle with her teeth. After sedating Patient 092 and putting on the proper restraints, she woke up without any memory of her attack. Very favorable results indeed. Perhaps we can apply Wernicke's formula to Patient 092. However, it appears that only male patients respond well to the treatment, while female patients seem to reject it. That should be another aspect to take note of. Also, in my observations, I have noticed this…Walrider differs from the German legends in a few ways. It is not that the Walrider deviates from the legends, but it appears to have a mixture of other folklore. This may be a simple error in the data, but it appears that the Walrider has the ability to shapeshift and…create or absorb objects from another. This morning while I was doing my rounds near the experimental chambers, I noticed the apple on one of the desks was missing. As I turned toward the containment chamber, I could make out a small black orb being tossed around. It is intriguing really. These characteristics are like dokkabeis, creatures from Korean folklore. A dokkabei can take the appearance of impish trolls to demonic figures and are said to steal from their victims. Perhaps I am looking too much into this. This occurrence only happened once and may be a result of, like I said, an error in the data. But I can't help but think the Walrider may be….mutating due to our interference, and or…the abilities of the Walrider may depend on the host."**

The three of us said nothing as Miles read the last sentence of Dr. Mathers' report.

'Is it true that the Walrider has **that** many abilities? And possibly more than even Murkoff knows of? The Walrider is already running rampant through the asylum, so what damage could Billy do if he had access to the outside world?"

"Young-ja, let's go." Miles' voice snapped me out of my daze and I let him help me to my feet. He folded the few legible documents and slipped them into his jacket. "I wonder if this is part of Father Martin's revelation. But what does this all mean?"

"Miles?"

"We need to hurry. I have a feeling things are going to start coming together soon."

And with that, the three of us scampered down the hallway and continued our search for Father Martin.

* * *

(Outskirts of Denver)

(Ms. Johnson)

Like Mr. and Mrs. Upshur did a few hours earlier, Mr. and Mrs. Park tore down my door and demanded to know what happened to their daughter. I wondered how they got to the States so quickly, but I figured they must've charted a Concorde or something. The Upshurs tried to explain what little they knew, that Miles had gone to investigate a case regarding the Murkoff Corporation after receiving an email and Young-ja had gone after him. Mr. Upshur tried to decode the e-mail and find the sender's location, but to no avail. All the lawyers and detectives they tried to contact immediately declined or hung up the minute Murkoff was mention. Even the police officer I contacted earlier this morning called back and said this case was out of their control.

Was the Murkoff Corporation **that powerful**?

Evening was gradually closing in and all trails had run dry.

Without an answers and stricken with worry, the two pairs of parents…started to fight.

"This is why we were against our daughter marrying that boy of yours!" Mr. Park shouted, pointing a wrinkly finger in the Upshurs' faces. "I told her that boy would bring her nothing but trouble! And I was right! That boy is too wild, just like his parents!"

"Don't you dare blame Miles or anyone else for this!" Mrs. Upshur retorted, shooting up to her feet and push Mr. Park back. "My son has helped so many people and has made **your daughter** the happiest woman on Earth! **You two** were the horrible parents, not us! You're the one that pushed your own daughter away!"

Back and forth both couple shouted, blaming each other for the unknown fate of their children. And while they screamed their lungs out, Ae-cha sat on the stairway with Annie on her lap, watching her grandparents tear each other apart. In her tiny hand, I could see her clutching her father's rings with all her might, like if she wished hard enough her parents would appear in the living room and stop the fighting.

But Miles and Young-ja did not appear.

So the fighting continued on and the grandparents continued to bawl at each other, paying no mind to the little girl absorbing it all six feet away.

* * *

**A/N: I mentioned before that my Waylon is mixed, so I thought I should touch on his mother's Brazilian heritage by Miles' giving him a nickname in Portuguese. So this chapter goes a little more into the Walrider's abilities and origins. And dokkaebis are like little goblins in Korea. There are some good ones and some bad ones. Usually they steals things, but give to the good and take from the bad. They look a little like the moblins from Zelda, and if you want to get technical, Totoro is kinda like a dokkaebi too. Yet, I am going with the characteristics of a bad dokkaebi. Haha. And if anyone can guess why Miles' decided to call Waylon a pickle, you will win at life. And~! If anyone can guess where the name Marshall Mathers comes from, you will win at life again. **

**Please look forward to the next chapter! **


	55. Scavenger Hunt

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I truly hope my story continues to please you!**

**I welcome old and new readers! **

**Please enjoy!**

**Answer to pickle question: Waylon's nickname comes from the phrase "We are in a bit of a pickle" and since it was Waylon that brought Miles to the asylum, and Waylon sending the e-mail that got him caught by Blaire, Miles is calling him the "pickle" a.k.a. "the problem".**

**Answer to Marshall Mathers question: Yes, it is an Eminem reference. Why? I asked my brother to give me the first name that popped into his head, and that is what he said. BUT it is also a Markiplier reference. During his playthrough of Outlast, Markiplier kept forgetting Miles' name, so Marshall Mathers was one of his nicknames for Miles. Lol. **

**If you got any of these right, you win at life. Congratulations. If not, thank you and you rock anyways! Love you guys!**

**Song of the Day: "Déjà Vu" by The Real Tuesday Weld**

* * *

(Young-ja)

I still wasn't sure what to make of this new information, but I had to push my thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand.

'I just hope Billy doesn't try to suddenly experiment with his abilities while we are still here.'

"Another locked door." Waylon groaned, jiggling the knob of the third door we've come across. "How the hell does Father Martin expect us to find him if everything is locked?"

"It is all part of the bastard's game." Miles replied, that pained look in his eyes reappearing. "He said revelation is at hand, so maybe he wants me to prove my worth or find something out as a rite of passage."

"And **you are actually** going along with it?"

"Hey, I don't want anything to do with this guy, but Father Martin is the only obstacle keeping us from the outside world, so I have no choice but to play along."

Miles' words struck a chord with me because I faintly recall saying something similar to that when Father Martin sent me to the basement to obtain revelation.

I just pray Miles' won't get his arm torn off like I did.

"Not my babies." A raspy, high pitched voice suddenly cried out from behind us, causing us to whip around and plaster ourselves to the metal door in fright.

A variant with a partially burned face leered at us with a metal pole in hand. He was breathing rapidly, and his one good eye was completely blood shot.

"Oh God," The Variant whimpered, raising the metal pole high into the air. "I don't wanna die! Leave me be! Leave. Me. **BE**!"

"Get behind me." Miles hissed under his breath, and Waylon and I immediately complied.

Then, slowly and without taking our eyes off the Variant, we held our breath and tip toed down the hallway until we could see a light coming from one of the doors at the end.

"Alright," Miles whispered. "On the count of three, we turn around and run into that room. Got it?"

One.

Two.

**Three!**

In complete sync, the three of us twirled around on our heels and sped towards the light with all our might, not stopping until the Variant was out of sight.

"Think that was our mysterious stalker?" Waylon asked, panting against the wall and clutching his chest.

"Possibly." I answered, my heart still pounding in my ears as I surveyed the room we were in.

It appeared to be a foyer, like the one back in the Administration Block and Male Ward. As typical of the rest, body parts were scattered about, blood smeared against the walls, and all the windows and doors were boarded up. A single light shone in the room, hovering above a fallen wheelchair like it was giving off some kind of omen.

"Hot damn." Miles bent down and picked up two batteries from one of the guard's hands like it was nothing and tossed one at Waylon. "There is a passageway over there. I guess that is where we need to go next."

The rotting archway lead down to the basement where there were several Variants huddled into the corners and crying their eyes out. They didn't appear to be hostile, so we were able to pass without any difficulty. Water from the busted pipes was slowly flooding the cement floor, but I didn't notice it until Waylon pointed it out. In fact, I had stopped feeling anything under my feet since I woke up in the linen closet. Perhaps all the nerves in my feet are dead now, considering what we have walked through and such.

But, I couldn't find it in me to care. I just figured it to be another piece of the puzzle at this point.

As we reached the other side of the basement and trudged up the rickety stairway, the blood smeared across the wall began to take the shape of arrows, and that was a good sign taking into account who we were following.

"Ah, the blood arrows," Miles sighed, patting the wall. "Hello again, my old friend."

"I think your husband is starting to go off the deep end." Waylon whispered to me.

"We are all…going off..the deep end, Waylon." I replied, hobbling after Miles' brisk pace.

I shortly proved my point moments later when we approach another stairwell, finding the middle section had collapsed and we would have to jump to the other side.

Suddenly my mind went blank and without thinking, I just jumped, completely miscalculating the distance between the ledges. I was also cruelly reminded that my ribs were fractured because when my torso slammed against the end of the opposing ledge, blood spewed out of my mouth and my breath was knocked out of my lungs. Regaining my senses, I clawed at the rotting wood with my one hand, slipping further and further off the edge and closer to the dark ravine below.

But, just as I was about to fall, Miles and Waylon threw themselves onto the other side and quickly hoisted me back up.

"**Are you fucking nuts**?!" Miles screamed, grasping me firmly by the shoulders as I continued to cough up blood. "**Are you trying to get yourself killed**?! **Huh**?!"

I couldn't respond as I was too busy hacking up sputum and trying to hide the bleeding around my chest from soaking through the poncho and giving Miles another reason to panic over me. I felt around my chest and mentally sighed in relief that the bleeding was just old wounds re-opening, and not my ribs piercing through my chest. And, even if I could speak, I had no explanation.

Something just….told me to jump, so I did.

"Can you get up?" Waylon asked, bending down next to me and offering his hand.

I nodded, wincing as I tried to brace myself against the wall and stand up but every time I moved, more cuts just opened up.

"Don't be stupid!" Miles shot up to his feet and swept me up in his arms. "Christ, you are giving me white hairs. Waylon, let's keep going before she decides to take flight again."

My breathing, though labored, had returned and I tried to tell him not to worry, but then thought better of it. It wasn't like he was going to listen to me anyways when he is in worry mode.

As the two of them hurried up the rest of the stairs, I could hear the familiar echo of whispers bouncing off the walls and I knew who the real culprit was.

'Billy,' I closed my eyes and gingerly touched my stump, "you really want to kill your mother, don't you?'

Another blood arrow awaited us, pointing to the adjacent stairway door, but of course, it was locked.

"Damn it." Waylon kicked the door in frustration. "Do we have to find the key now?"

"That would be my guess, Sherlock." Miles scanned the room before doing a double take towards the hallway to our right. "Is that….?"

I slowly craned my head back and spotted someone waving a light in our direction.

Considering our circumstances, it wasn't a huge surprise to discover it was Father Martin.

"You are nearly here!" He called out to us from behind a gate, but he was mainly addressing Miles. "You can cross from the upper floors!"

Then the 'priest' scurried off once again, leaving us in total darkness once more. Miles didn't even bother to call out to him; he just gritted his teeth and shifted me in his arms.

"He calls me his apostle, yet I felt more like his errand boy."

"At least your name makes sense." Waylon grunted, gesturing towards a caved-in part of the wall not far away, and they walked towards it. "I don't know why I'm a 'shepherd'. And Young-ja is an angel, why is that?"

"Well," I racked my brain to recall the exact reason. "I'm…the only woman..in the asylum. And…Father Martin is..aware Miles' is my husband, so…he said…I was Miles' solar angel and that I'm..supposed to help him obtain..revelation so I can be…free. Stupid reason…really."

"And how are you supposed to help me obtain that?"

"Honestly" I closed my eyes and let out a weak sigh. "…I have no idea. My revelation…ended up…with me losing my arm."

Miles' boots screeched against the floor as he suddenly halted and stared down at me.

"**Come again?** Father Martin is the reason you lost your arm?!"

I stared back at him, considering my options. While it was Billy who did it, it was Father Martin who sent me down there so…..

"….Yes. He is the reason." I mentally chuckled at Miles' infuriated expression and figured watching him tear the priest in half would be fun entertainment. Strange, isn't it? I find torture to be entertaining now.

'But if Father Martin did die right in front of my eyes, I don't think I'd give a shit.'

Truly. I wouldn't.

* * *

(Miles)

We eventually located the key to the next floor. However, the kicker was that a corpse had it….a corpse stuck in the laundry chute…a laundry chute that need three fuses to operate.

And I bet the rest of my fingers that Father Martin hid them so we could go on his John Kramer scavenger hunt. The strikes against this guy are starting to add up into the quadruple digits, and the detriment towards Young-ja just turned it into a googol. She had gotten lighter and smaller, if possible, since the last time I carried her. In fact, I could hold her completely fine in one arm while holding the camcorder in the other. That is what scared me most of all. I really wanted to beat Father Martin into the next millennium, but, he seemed to be the only thing keeping us from escaping, so what other choice did I have but to humor the senile bastard?

The laundry chute room had two adjacent hallways and a gaping hole in the wall, all which were possible locations of the fuses, so I did a mental 'Eeny Meeny Miny Moe' and the left hallway was our first route to investigate.

The first thing to greet our eyes was a tiny shrine with five candles, a shattered picture of Alan Turning, and a piece of cardboard with the words "Pray for Revelation" painted on it in blood.

"Another note from your fan." The pickle pointed out, and I resisted the urge to kick the candles over because I've come too fucking far to die in a simple fire.

There was a door a little ways over, and upon opening it, we were greeted with a Variant about to sacrifice another Variant with a machete. The 'sacrifice' was chained to the ground and surrounded by candles. Another "Pray for Revelation" sigh was nailed into the ground behind him, and I quickly realized these were probably Father Martin's followers.

Which is just fucking great.

However, finding this room was not completely for naught because I spotted a fuse pod nestled next to the chained Variant's feet. Since I was carrying Young-ja and there was no way in Hell I was putting her down after that ravine stunt, that meant Waylon was left to do the deed.

"Go get it, _Picles._" I whispered, nudging him forward with my foot. "Be a hero."

"Be..careful." Young-ja added, biting her blood encrusted nails in anticipation. "And be..quick."

Waylon audibly gulped but crept into the room as silently as a mouse, keeping his eyes on the machete Variant the entire time.

Then, just as he was in range of the fuse pod, the floorboard creaked under his weight and the machete Variant shot his head up and leered at Waylon with a murderous gleam in his eye.

"Oh fuck."

Waylon was frozen in place, his outstretched hand hovering above the fuse pod and his eyes wide as saucers.

"Waylon," Young-ja whimpered. "**Run**."

As fast as lighting, Waylon snatched the fuse pod up and we tore cheek out of there, just as the chained Variant started to scream and the machete Variant raised his weapon into the air.

"You're getting the next one!" Waylon hissed at me as we scampered down the hallway at a breakneck pace.

Just as I was about to answer him, the door at the far end of the hallway opened and I could make out a silhouette standing in the door way.

Without missing a beat, I wrapped my left arm around Waylon's waist and barrel rolled to the side.

"What th-?!"

"Shh!" I slammed my palm over his mouth and plastered the three of us against the wall, just as a Variant with a steel pipe bolted by.

"You're welcome." I mumbled, not moving an inch until I was completely sure he was out of ear shot.

"Good eyes, Miles." Young-ja gazed up at me, and I knew it wasn't an appropriate time to feel smug at her praise….but I felt it anyways.

Inching back into the main hallway, we hurried into the room that Variant came from and found the second fuse pod in the mouth of a dead Variant. That and another sign brandishing the words "Invite the Walrider".

Guess that is the violent equivalent of "Accept Jesus into your Heart".

Back in the hallway, I spotted the Variant making his way in our direction and performed the same maneuver in the same spot, except Waylon had the sense to keep quiet this time.

Once he was gone, we scurried back to the laundry chute room and crawled into the hole in the wall, figuring this was where the last fuse was. The hole led into yet another dark hallway with peeling wallpaper and yet another note awaited me.

"Drive in the nails".

'Does the nutcase expect me to **crucify someone**?'

And, of fucking course, not a second after the thought crossed my mind, we entered at room where a Variant had been crucified upside down on a cross.

"The…notes are…getting more extreme." Young-ja pointed out, her eyes glued to the gruesome sight. "Are these…the work of…Father Martin or…his followers?"

My mind flashed back to the machete Variant, and I felt my stomach churn at the thought of rogue, excommunicated Variants roaming the premises.

Luckily, we didn't have to stay in the room long because Waylon found the last fuse…..wedged between a stigmata engraved in the poor guys' sternum.

"Jesus Christ. Father Martin needs to re-evaluate his gospel." I winced as Waylon reached into the guy's chest and fished out the fuse pod.

On the flip side, the sounds of the pipe Variant making his way towards the room echoed down the hallway, and we had to hide under one of the beds. I could feel Young-ja's heart racing against mine, and I had to remind myself to be gentle with her torso.

Right on cue, the Variant waltzed in and began investigating the room, whispering "Slippery. So slippery. Little sisters and little whispers. So…close…"

While he ogled the crucified Variant, Young-ja tugged at my collar and pointed at the roaring fire burning away in the fireplace behind the cross.

I immediately knew what she was getting at and silently crawled out from under the bed, gesturing for Waylon to follow suit. Then I crept up behind the pole Variant and kicked him square in the back, sending him into the flames "Steadfast Tin Solider" style.

As his bloodcurdling screams filled the room, we flew past the threshold, slammed the door behind us, and hurried back to the laundry chute.

Waylon jammed the pods into the circuit board and pushed the 'On' switch, and we waited with baited breath for the chute to open.

But, because the world hates us, the laundry chute dropped the guard's corpse to the bottom floor, meaning we had to go back down and get the damn thing.

**Of. Fucking. Course.**

* * *

After racing back down the stairs, hopping over the Grand Canyon, and running into the Squeaky Variant who just called us "stupid" over and over, we found the guard's body and retrieved the key to the 3rd floor.

Now, I would like to say we got back up the stairs safely, but it seems Squeaky Variant brought a friend who proceeded to chase us with a bat. But what got me was that he said we were "one of Wernicke's".

'Wernicke has been dead for years. How do they know about him anyways?'

Eventually, we lost him and we quickly unlocked the 3rd floor gate.

However yet another ravine awaited us, bigger than the last one in fact. So Waylon hopped across first, barely making it but he did. Then, after he promised a million times to catch her, I tossed Young-ja over and once I was sure she was safe, I leapt towards the opposing edge, grunting when my abdomen slammed against the wood before climbing to my feet and taking her from him.

"I'm…not a..sack of potatoes." She said, glaring up at me.

"Well how else was I going to get you across? Build a ski lift from the blood of the fallen?"

She just glared at me for a moment longer before facing away, her brow still furrowed.

At the top of the stairway, another message greeted us: "Follow the Blood"

'How familiar.' I thought back to the same message back in the Prison Ward.

The blood arrows lead us down several hallways, each with more bodies and candles than the last. Didn't know the reckoning was happening so soon.

Then, we soon came to a part of the hallway where the floor was missing completely and we had to strafe across the wall using what little wood was jutting from it. We had to jump to the next room, which made me feel like one of the Mario Bros. at this point. About 75% of the floor was missing here too, so Waylon and I definitely had to watch our step.

But, suddenly, that infuriating buzzing sound flooded my brain once again and I could faintly see the outline of the Walrider rise from the ground before rushing towards Young-ja and I and pushing us roughly through the hole below.

"SHIT!" I gasped as my back made contact with the hard ground and Young-ja tumbled against me.

"Oh God, are you guys alright?!" Waylon called down to us before the hole in the room, looking like he was about to burst into tears.

"We…are fine, Waylon." Young-ja answered, rubbing her forehead before facing me. "Are you..alright?"

"I'm fine, Honey." I gave her a tiny smile and caressed her bruised cheek. "You know I'm made of titanium."

She didn't look entirely convinced, but she let it go to focus on the situation at hand.

"How are we…going to get back?"

On the far side of the room, I could make out a stack of metal bed posts stacked up and leading to another hole in the roof.

"We should be able to get back up climbing that." I held her close before standing back up. "Better hurry though. I think the Walrider has got it in for us."

Young-ja's grip on my jacket tightened and she breathed out the words, "It's not you he wants dead."

I didn't answer that ominous phrase, just kissed her forehead and said, "I promise. We'll get out of here alive and well….together."

And I wasn't entirely sure if I was trying to reassure her or myself.

* * *

Once we were back on the 3rd floor and Waylon wiped his freaking Bambi eyes, we pressed on. Even with half of the floor missing in every room, the amount of shit piled up everywhere already made walking ten times as tedious. The blood arrows started to show their faces again, and they led us to a room full of Murkoff and CIA documents, all scribbled over with the words "**LIES**" on them in blood. The facts. The records. They were all 'lies' in Father Martin's disillusioned eyes.

The longer we stayed in the room, the louder the buzzing became, so I suggested we pressed forward.

That was a huge mistake since the next room we checked was where the Twins were. A part of me wanted to smile and say "Hey, friends! How ya doin?" but I just settled for running for my life with Waylon in tow. We cramped ourselves into a tiny locker and waited for the naked duo to pass by.

A lovely reunion, I must say.

Once they were gone, we scurried back to the room and locked it behind us.

Another red arrow pointed to an archway on the right side of the room, so that is where we went next.

And this room was **fucking great** because 95% of the floor was missing!

Does Father Martin think we can fly? **Can he fly**?! Apparently, since he is leaving me all these clues in strange places and leaving without a trace!

It was like a morbid version of hopscotch as we moved from plank to plank, especially since I could hear whispers from the darkness below.

Finally, we reached the final platform separating us from the door, but I could tell if we weren't quick about it, the old planks would collapse underneath us. So, I ordered Waylon to go first, then followed by Young-ja and I. Waylon, at Young-ja's strong request, took a running start and landed on the other side, a few shards of wood crumbling to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, I backed up and got into running position.

"Hold on tight to me," I whispered to Young-ja before I leapt off the edge.

As my foot made contact with the edge, I could feel the wood shattered beneath me and I immediately threw Young-ja at Waylon's waiting arms and grabbed onto a board just before I plummeted to certain doom.

But, as I pulled my torso up on the ledge, I saw it: my camcorder tumbling down the cracking boards and hurdling towards the darkness below.

'**No!**'

I blindly reached out for it, and just as my fingers grazed it, someone grabbed my hand and saved me from falling to my death.

It was Waylon.

I turned and saw my precious camcorder plummet through a hole in the ground and vanish out of sight.

"The camcorder!" I wiggled around in his iron grip. "I need to get it!"

"**It's not worth your life, you idiot!**" Waylon screamed, hauling me up onto the remaining planks where Young-ja flew into my arms and called me a damn fool several times.

"That camcorder has all my footage on it." I mumbled, peering down at the hole below. "We can't move on without it."

"You're not saying…" Waylon gaped at me, pointing down with an incredulous expression.

"Yes, **we need to go after it**."

* * *

**A/N: Time for a trip to go get the camcorder back! And the "at Young-ja's strong request" is a reference to the last time Young-ja and Waylon hopped across a fatal drop and they ended up getting separated because he didn't take a running start. **

**Look forward to the next chapter! **


	56. Getting the Camcorder

**A/N: I thank everyone for their wonderful reviews and support. I hope my story continues to please you!**

**Welcome all readers, both new and old! Please enjoy!**

**Song of the Day: "Shadow of Doubt" by Yoko Kanno**

(Waylon)

Some people may say it is impossible for time to slow down, but I disagree.

The moment Miles' foot made contact with the ledge, everything went into slow motion. The wood shattered into tiny pieces and Miles began to fall back. Without thinking, I held my arms wide open and Young-ja was thrown into them, sending the both of us tumbling backwards.

Then time suddenly sped back up and I sat up to see Miles' hanging off the edge, **trying to reach for his damn camcorder!**

"Miles!" Young-ja shot forward to grab his hand, but I pushed her back just as the boards cracked beneath Miles' grip, and I dove down to snatch his hand up in the nick of time. But the moron kept struggling against me and reaching for **his fucking camcorder**, and I felt what little patience I had left snap.

"**IT'S NOT WORTH YOUR LIFE, YOU IDIOT!" **I screamed, using all of my strength to yank him back onto what little remained of the platform. And the moment Miles was by my side, Young-ja launched herself onto him, insulting her husband while also clinging to him for dear life.

While I left Miles to endure Young-ja's wrath, I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart.

But, it sped right back up when Miles said we needed to go after his camcorder.

"You're not saying…" I gaped, pointing to the death abyss below. 'Did he leave his brain behind after making that jump?!'

"Yes." Miles answered, crawling to his feet and taking his wife with him. "**We need to go after it."**

"Miles, you can use **my** footage! I've recorded enough fucked up stuff too!"

But the huge dolt was ignoring me and making his way to the edge of the platform, looking for a way down.

'Why do I even bother?'

Then Miles, having noticed a pile of crates he could jump down on, turned towards the two of us.

"I'll hurry up and grab the camcorder. It could be dangerous, so I want you guys to wait here."

Before I could even blink, Young-ja had snagged Miles' shirt in her hand and was leering up at him.

"I…spent hours….looking for you," she panted, pulling him down to her level with each syllable. "I…will not…go through that…again."

"Young-ja," Miles placed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to reassure her. "**I'm not** going to drag you through that again. Waylon will be with you unt-."

"Didn't you promise…to protect me?"

"Yes." He answered without missing a beat.

"Then..I'm coming with you. And that's final." And she pushed him aside and limped to the edge of the platform before hopping down onto the crates below.

I had to turn around and stifle my laughter at how Miles' looked exactly like a large tree blowing over in a hurricane. He had this sheepish expression on his face while rubbing the back of his neck, very unlike his usual snarky demeanor.

'Score one for Young-ja! Haha-!'

"**Ack!**" I gasped when Miles slapped the back of my head. "What was that for?!"

"So you would wipe that stupid look off your face." He shot a deadly glare at me before following after his wife. "**Let's move, Park**."

"C-coming." I stuttered, still trying to hide my smile.

* * *

(Young-ja)

I had enough at that point.

Every time I had to split up with someone, nothing good happened to either of us. So if Miles was going back for his camcorder, then we would all go with him.

End of story.

The boys quickly jumped after me, and Waylon took the lead this time since he had the only light source. After hopping over a few pitfalls, we made it to the next room, and I was thrilled to see that the floor was still intact. But the piles of broken bed frames and mattresses still posed as irritating obstacles.

There was a bathroom on the far side of the room with water spewing from one of the toilets. Waylon made a sound of disgust as he waddled through it. It appeared that the water was flowing towards the last stall, and when we opened it, we found a gaping hole in the ground.

Waylon went down first, landing on a conveniently placed desk before Miles and I followed suit. The hole led us to a locker room, much like the one I found Miles in. The mirrors were scratched beyond all repair and painted over with blood.

As we stepped out into the hallway, lightning struck and I was reminded that it was still raining outside. And it was at that exact moment the batteries in Waylon's camcorder went out.

"Shit!"

"What the hell, _Picles?_" Miles pushed Waylon's shoulder roughly, making him bump against the wall. "Shouldn't you carry extra batteries?!

"Well, I'm not the one who dropped their fucking camcorder! So I don't want to hear a word out of you!"

"Oh bite me."

"Guys." I gasped, immediately silencing their bickering and pointed down the hallway.

Another flash of lighting hit and the silhouette of someone standing at the end of the hallway was illuminated against the large window before it slowly went dark again. Then a moment later, another flash hit and the figure was gone.

"You better hurry up and find your damn camcorder, Upshur." Waylon mumbled, his hand trembling. "I've had it up to here with mysterious figures stalking us."

We slowly made our way down the hallway, on high alert and on edge. When we reached the large window, we took a sharp left and saw a faint light coming from one of the rooms. As we drew closer, a figure suddenly sprung out of the darkness and grabbed Miles.

"Hey!" Waylon pushed me out of the way and wrapped his arms around the Variant's back, trying to pry him off Miles.

But, like most of the others, this Variant had inhuman strength and wouldn't budge an inch.

Panicking, I looked around for something to distract him with and noticed a wooden plank discarded on the ground. Snatching it up, I twirled around and smashed it against the Variant's head.

Disoriented, he stumbled back and Miles took the chance to shove him off. But the Variant easily threw Miles to the ground, bucked Waylon off his back, and raced off with pieces of the plank still embedded into his skull.

"Are you…alright?" I bent down next to the guys as they rubbed their heads and groaned in pain.

"I'm fine. Thank you, _Cara Mia_."

"Bet…you're glad…you brought me along now, right?"

"Definitely." He smiled and helped me back up before turning to Waylon and doing the same for him. "_Obrigado, Picles."_

"Thank God." Waylon smirked, dusting his jumpsuit off. "I thought you were going to forget about me for moment and go off into La-La land with your wife."

We entered the faintly lit room, discovering the light was coming from the lightning outside. It was a circular room with floor-to-ceiling windows on each wall, and at every window, there was a Variant either slamming their head against the glass or curled into the fetal position and muttering to themselves. To the right, there was a pair of double doors that led into a winding hallway. It was difficult to navigate since the corridor did not have windows and there were obstacles at every corner, but we were able to make it through.

When we reached the end of the hallway, I could make out a faint blueish glow in the middle of the room and knew we had finally found Miles' camcorder.

"There it is." Miles sighed in relief, scurrying towards it while Waylon and I trailed behind.

Miles picked up the tiny machine, cradling it like he did to Ae-cha every night and check for any injuries.

"Screen is a little cracked, but the memory seems to be fine."

"Good," Waylon groaned. "Then let's hurry up and ge-."

The sound of wood cracking behind us cut Waylon off, and all three of us slowly turned around to investigate what caused the sound. Behind us were five Variants with weapons ranging from hacksaws to steel pipes, all making their way towards us.

"**Time to go!**" Miles bent down and threw Waylon and me over his shoulders before bolting back down the hallway.

I could hear the Variants chasing after us and just silently screamed, while Waylon actually did.

"**Shit! Shit! Run faster, Miles!**"

"**WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I'M DOING, PARK?! SKIPPING?!**"

When Miles finally reached the locker room, the sounds of the Variants faded away, but he didn't slow down at all.

He hopped back onto the desk and tossed Waylon and I up onto the bathroom floor before following suit.

"Hey, batteries!" Waylon smiled, grabbing a pair of AA batteries from behind one of the toilets before we were scooped up once more.

Then Miles hurried out of the bathroom, through the pile room, and climbed back up the crates to the broken platform.

There, Miles finally put us down and I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Good job, Noble Steed." Waylon leaned over to pat Miles' head; Miles decked him in the abdomen before falling back and patting his chest.

"Don't…don't make me regret not leaving you, _Picles._" Miles panted, trying to catch his breath.

Waylon just laughed before looking at the entranceway behind us.

"So where does Father Martin want us to go now?"

I noticed a directory hanging on the wall and squinted to see what it said.

"It….says…**Administration Block**." Then everything became crystal clear and I felt like kicking myself for not noticing sooner. "Of course.."

"'Of course' what?" Miles asked, sitting back up.

"Father Martin is leading us to the chapel." I sighed and closed my eyes. "He must finally be ready to bring this wretched night to an end."

* * *

**A/N: Since the last few chapters have been pretty long, this is one is pretty short since it is a transitional chapter between the previous and upcoming sections of the game/story. **

**Please look forward to the next chapter! :D **


	57. The Time is Approaching

**A/N: I thank all of you so much for your reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you! And whatever you celebrate or do not celebrate this holiday season, may it be a happy one! I love you guys! :D**

**I welcome all new and old readers! Please enjoy!**

**(Song of the Day: Atrium Carceri- The Expedition)**

* * *

_It was extremely early in the morning when I opened my eyes._

_The room was completely dark, save for the small sliver of sunrise peeking through the curtains. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment before a smile crept its way across my face, and I rolled over to face the person lying next to me. _

_Even after we bought a bigger mattress, Miles still loved to sleep in the middle of the bed. _

_Well, at least I don't wake up on the ground anymore. _

_I giggled and watched my husband sleep in his natural habitat. He was lying on his chest, face buried against the comfy pillow Sophia bought for him last Christmas and his arms wrapped tightly around said pillow. If it wasn't for the fact that I could see his chest rise and fall, I would've been afraid that he suffocated himself. _

_The longer I looked at him, the happier I became and I had to stop myself from jumping on the bed and squealing with childish glee._

_But, I believe my joy was well deserved._

_After all, today was our 3__rd__ year wedding anniversary._

_Three years of being married to my best friend!_

_Three wonderful, beautiful years!_

_Unable to hold myself back any longer, I scooted towards him and wrapped my arms around his torso, rubbing my face against his warm back and sighing in pure euphoria. And so, I laid there next to him and slowly, the light flowing into the room began to darken and raindrops were soon bouncing against the roof. There is nothing more lovely than staying in bed and listening to the rain fall outside, so my morning went from good to great. _

_Then, as I was beginning to doze off again, I felt Miles shift and before I knew it, his arms were wrapped securely around me._

_I gazed up at him and found him gazing back with a sleepy smile._

"_Good morning," I whispered, scooting up so my face was next to his._

"_Good morning to you too." He replied, inching closer to kiss me gently._

"_Do you know what today is?" _

"_Hmmmm. Let me think. It is raining outside, you're glowing with excitement, and that question is only asked once a year. Therefore," Miles took my left hand and kissed the two rings on my finger. "It must be our wedding anniversary." _

"_Correct!" I rewarded him with a big smooch on the lips. "Three years and counting!"_

"_And have they been wonderful years?" He sat up slightly so his torso was hovering over me and his hands rested on both sides of my head._

"_They have been __**fantastic**__ years." I laughed, reaching up and pulling him down for a long, heartfelt kiss. His stubble tickled my face and I giggled as he began kissing down my neck and shoulders. _

"_Mi-Miles!" I squealed, playfully swatting him away but to no avail. "T-That tickles!"_

"_I'm well aware." He smirked, rubbing his cheek against mine and making me erupt into laughter once more. "That's why I'm doing it."_

_As he bent down to kiss me again, a lightbulb went off in my head and I shot my hand out to stop him._

"_Mmphf?!"_

"_I just remember something! Hold on!" I sat up and crawled out from under him and leant over the side of the bed, pulling up a rectangle blue box with a ribbon on top from under the bed._

"_Here we are." I adjusted the ribbon to make sure it was perfect before holding it out towards Miles. "Happy Anniversary, my love!" _

_He gently took the box from me, undid the ribbon, and popped the lid off._

"_What is this?" He held up a long rectangular machine._

"_It is portable Smart Scanner. You are always lugging around folders upon folders of papers, so this scanner can help you out. Just run your documents through and you can have all of your research in the palm of your hand!" I grinned and held my arms out in a 'Surprise!' pose. "Do you like it?"_

_Miles smiled and placed the box and scanner to the side before pulling me into his arms and falling back onto the bed and blowing raspberries against my neck._

"_I love it. Thank you, Honey." _

_We embraced and kissed for a while, and just when I though it couldn't get any better, Miles spoke up._

"_I have something for you too." Without getting up or letting go of me, he reached out and grabbed a thick square box hidden between the bed and night table. "Happy Anniversary, Honey."_

_Curious and ecstatic, I sat up, carefully opened the box, and pulled out a beautiful snow globe with a carousel horse inside. _

"_Wow," I gasped, inspecting it all over. "It is beautiful."_

"_There is a knob at the bottom. Give it a few turns and listen."_

_I did as he asked and "Angel Kisses" by Thad Fiscella filled the room. _

_I squealed and quickly placed the snow globe on the night table before tackling Miles._

"_I *kiss* love *kiss* it! Thank you! *kiss* *kiss* so much! *kiss*"_

"_It's nothing much." He laughed, rolling over so we lay side by side. "Your gift was more thoughtful, I just happen to know one of your favorite piano pieces and put it inside a snow globe."_

"_But it is the thought that matters, Miles. And I can tell you put a lot of thought into my gift and that is why I love it so much." I brought his hand to my face and kissed his open palm. "I love you, Miles. Thank you for marrying me."_

"_I should be the one thanking you." He smiled and starting running his fingers through my hair. "I am the twit who was lucky enough to marry someone like you."_

"_How about __**we are both lucky**__, all right?" I sighed, placing my hand on the bare skin peeking from under his shirt, chuckling at how it made him jump slightly. "Did you ever think you'd get married?"_

"_Hmmm. I want to hear your answer first."_

"_Alright. Well, honestly, no. I never really talked to anyone until I met you. My initial plan was to finish college, get a job as a musician, and live my life alone. But, after meeting and falling in love with you, I couldn't imagine living life without you by my side." I laughed as Miles gave me a kiss on the nose. "What about you?"_

"_I guess I fancied the idea once in a while, but it wasn't something I lost sleep over. I figured if I met someone, then great. If I didn't, then being a bachelor wouldn't be so terrible. Then I met you, and when you left for Germany, I told myself when you came back I was going to marry you some day." My heart warmed at his words, and I cuddled closer, listening to his deep voice vibrate in his chest. "Hey, do you want to know a secret?"_

"_What?" I asked._

"_Even before we officially met, I had a tiny crush on you."_

"_What?!" I gaped at him with pure shock. "Really?!"_

"_Holy shit. Why so surprised, Short Stack?" He chuckled. "I just thought you were cute, but you never looked up or said anything, so I had a small method of making you do so every day."_

"…_..That is why you never brought your pencil to class? __**Seriously?!**__"_

"_May~be. It was just a little crush though, I didn't really start __**liking**__ you until after we became friends. When you burst into the classroom that rainy day, much like the one today," He pointed up to the ceiling. "And you were so frustrated and actually showed some emotion, my crush started to grow a bit and that is the main reason I asked for your number."_

"…_Why didn't you tell me this before?"_

"_Because we weren't married then, and I would be too embarrassed to admit that."_

"_True." I grinned, trailing my fingers up and down his bare back. "Do you remember those days when we just started dating and every time we did something romantic, we'd get all embarrassed and red in the face?"_

"_Vaguely, but we got past that pretty quickly….with the two year old down the hallway as evidence."_

"_Yeah." I hummed, deep in thought at his words. "Hey, Miles….do you….want to have another one?"_

"_Another kid?" _

"_Mhmm. Both of us were the only child of our families and….I want Ae-cha to know what it is like to have another sibling. And..I…wouldn't mind..having..another…." I trailed off at the end, my cheeks slowing burning up. "So..what do you think?"_

_Miles' sudden laughter made me jump and I stared at his shining face in wonder._

"_Of course I'd love to have another kid running around. Hell, if I had it my way, we'd already have three kids already."_

"_**Three kids in three years?! Holy Hell, Miles!**__" I laughed, covering my burning face. "But that is good to know, I guess."_

"_So, when do you want to have our next kid?"_

"_Ummm." I brought my hands down and thought hard. "I would like our kids to be close in age, so…as soon as possible?"_

"_**Hot Damn!**__" Miles cheered, peeling off his shirt and rolling us over so he was on top of me. "This anniversary is wrapping up quite nicely!"_

"_It's only 4 in the morning. The day has barely begun!"_

"_Exactly!" _

_However, we did not get very far since moments later someone knocked on the door. _

"_Mommy? Daddy?" Ae-cha quiet voice came from the other side. "May I come in?"_

"_J-Just a minute, sweetheart!" I called out, pulling my dress back down and Miles hurried to snatch his shirt off the floor and we quickly composed ourselves before replying "You can come in now!"_

_The door squeaked open and Ae-cha, who was carrying Annie, scurried into the room and stood at the end of the bed._

"_I heard laughing." She stated, looking at the two of us with her big eyes. "Why? I want to play too!"_

_Miles and I glanced at each other, our cheeks flushed red before laughing to the further confusion of our baby. _

"_We are just really happy, Cheerio." Miles leaned over and picked her up before placing her on his lap while Annie wiggled out of her grip and pattered over to me. "Today is the day your mommy and I got married."_

"_Married?" She gazed up at her dad in confusion. _

"_Yes, sweetie." I smiled, pointing to the rings on both of our fingers. "Your Daddy and I promised to love each other forever and wear these rings to show that promise."_

"_Oh!" Ae-cha clapped her hands together and nodded. "So…Mommy and Daddy's birthday?"_

"_Eh, in a sense it is."_

"_Yay! Happy Birthday!" She cheered, her adorable enthusiasm and lack of understand brought us to laughter again. _

_And so all four of us staid in bed all day, telling stories and watching all of the Disney movies on Netflix. Well, Ae-cha and Annie watched Disney movies on Netflix while Miles and I kissed when they weren't looking. _

_Then, as night came around, we all cuddled up in bed and Ae-cha and Annie drifted off to sleep._

"_Happy Anniversary, Short Stack." Miles grinned, kissing me with all the love in the world._

"_Happy Anniversary, Ventil Caramel Frappuccino." I giggled, reciprocating the kiss with just as much love. _

_But, before we could join our baby and puppy in the world of dreams, Miles' work phone vibrated._

"_Aren't you going to answer it?" I asked as the phone continued vibration without fail._

"_I'll just ignore it."_

"_What if it is important?"_

"_Ugggghhhhh. Fine." He carefully slipped his arm out from under Ae-cha and picked up his phone. "Ack, it's an e-mail alert. Let me check on it in my office."_

_I nodded and lay back down as he left the room._

_I figured it was a stupid work offer or something, but when Miles raced back into the room and began getting dressed, I knew it was something big._

"_What's wrong?" I crawled out of bed and walked up to him, this hole forming in my heart._

_Miles said nothing as he button up his shirt, just handed me a print out of the e-mail:_

_**You don't know me, but I've been a fan for a long time. You getting fired for what you posted on Afghanistan is absolute bullshit. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring.**_

_**I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems' facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys.**_

_**Terrible things happening there. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money.**_

_**It needs to be exposed.**_

* * *

(Young-ja)

Nothing good had ever coming from Father Martin's plans.

**Nothing.**

Every step we took down that foreboding hallway made the rock in my chest grow larger and larger until I felt it was going to rip out of my chest.

As we reached the end of the dark hallway, a Variant awaited our arrival, bathed in light and pointing to the hallway on the right.

"Only one way out. Only one way." He said, his voice like rusty nails on a chalkboard.

Since he didn't seem hostile, we just politely acknowledged him and hurried on our way. But before we were out of earshot, the Variant said, "How do you know you're not a patient?"

His words sent a chill down my spine, and I thought to myself that maybe we were like the other patients at this point.

Maybe **we were** beyond the point of no return.

The right hallway was impossibly narrow and had cabinet barricades stacked up every few feet, and I had this odd strange sense of déjà vu.

'Have I…been here before?'

Luckily, Miles apparently had the same thoughts because he halted to a stop and gazed around.

"This hallway looks familiar."

I racked my brain for any possible explanation, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"This must…be..the same hallway…I…came into when…I…entered the asylum, and since I followed your footsteps…then this must…be…how you…got in too."

Miles' never got a chance to reply however since a familiar silhouette crashed through a door at the end of the hallway and let out an ear splitting scream.

"Chris Walker!" Waylon gasped, grabbing the two of us and hiding behind a bookshelf.

We waited with baited breath as the giant eventually passed by us, but not before sniffing the air a few times and almost giving me an ulcer from the stress of waiting.

But he moved on, and the moment he was out of sight, the three of us scurried down the hallway and threw ourselves into the first room we saw, jamming it shut behind us.

That simple door wouldn't stop a tank like Chris Walker, but I hoped we didn't plan on sticking around long enough to see for ourselves.

It appeared to be a conference room with the amount of papers scattered across the table and the broken monitor at the front of the room. A majority of the documents didn't make sense to me, but one did catch my eye.

**Heya Cindy-**

**Another "interesting" conversation with Billy this morning. He says he's been talking to Dr. Wernicke again for his therapy "in the white place." I'm disturbed by the fact his delusions have only gotten worse with medication, (which isn't in the literature for benzodiazepine.)**

**In any case, his dead doctor friend is filling his head with German folklore. Apparently the only thing that can kill The Walrider are vampiric butterflies vomited from a demon called "Horerczy." the butterflies suck the breath from people's lips and drink blood from their nipples. They can also take the form of emaciated upright pigs,or sick dogs. So Billy's got that going for him.**

**You'd mentioned Billy talking about his mother's tattoos before, are any of them by chance tattoos of butterflies? Next time I get outside of the Murkoff firewall, I'm going to look online and see if there's any actual basis in German folklore, or if Billy's making this garbage up from whole cloth.**

**Would love to compare notes sometime. Wouldn't mind doing it over a glass of wine. ;). Gets lonely up here on Two.**

**-Kurt**

Another piece of the puzzle, it seems.

Cindy's response was stapled to the back of the document:

**Hello, Kurt**

**While I must decline on your generous offer, I did look up some information on this 'Horerczy' of Billy's. Apparently it is some vampire-like creature that opens its large mouth to spew Alps, which another name for The Walrider, in the form of butterflies. These butterflies will suck the breath or soul from humans, then fly back to the Hoerczy and nourish it. Lots of strange things have happened since this project was revived, so Billy may be able to see Wernicke's ghost after all. I'm not sure what to believe at this point, to be honest. Nothing is plain and simple in the end.**

**-Cindy**

I wasn't sure if I could wrap my head around this this information.

'So the only thing that can kill the Walrider…..is the Walrider?'

First we learn the Walrider can shape sift, absorb matter into itself, and now apparently there is a creature that can kill the Walrider?

'Just what was Wernicke and Murkoff thinking? Do they even understand their own creation?'

And the part where Bill said the Horerczy could take the form of pigs. Could….could that be the reason Chris Walker is chasing us? He keeps calling us 'little pigs' and talks about containing something, so…does Walker think we are here to kill the Walrider? Is Billy controlling some of the Variants? And is….Billy somehow controlling us too?

"_How do you know you're not a patient?"_

"_What could possibly possess you to enter this place?"_

"_I didn't come here to kill someone!" "Then why are you here?"_

_"The only way to stop this…is to murder Billy."_

_**"Just remember, no one can escape while Billy is alive."**_

I fell to my knees at the realization and the room became ice cold.

'Is….is that the true reason we are here? Have we become the 'Horerczy'?'

"Young-ja?" Miles voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I slowly turned to see him next to me. "Are you alright?"

"…Yes. I am fine." I shook my head to push away my thoughts for another time. "Let's…keep…going."

There was a vent on the ceiling we crawled through, and after pushing a corpse out of the way, we ended up back in the translucent windowed hallway overlooking the main lobby.

"We're almost there, guys." Waylon grinned, opening a door that led to the elevator and stairway section.

"You're him!" A Variant called out to us. He was standing behind a locked metal gate that led up to the third floor. His raw fingers clung to the metal bars and he pressed his face against them until they left ugly, red indentions.

"I'm guessing you're one of Father Martin's followers." Miles pointed out, approaching the excited man with caution.

"Yes. I'm supposed to tell you—the key to the house of God is in the theatre. Behind the light." The Variant shoved his hand through the metal bars and waved his finger in Miles' face, like he was trying to drive the point home. "In the theatre, behind the light. You have to see the movie. So that's where he left the card. Okay?"

"A card? What do you mean by a ca-?"

"Friends! Children!" Father Martin's voice boomed from the upper floor. "I need your help, where are you?"

"Yes! Coming! I'm coming!" The Variant answered before running off.

"Do….you think…he means…a 'key'?" I offered, looking at up Miles for clarification.

"Probably. Well, we better get moving to the theatre, so we can watch whatever movie and get the damn key."

"Hope they have popcorn." Waylon mumbled under his breath.

* * *

Thanks to the directory hanging off to the side, we found the route to the recreation area/theatre easily.

For a moment, we considered giving Father Martin a huge "Fuck you!' and leave, but the entrance to the foyer was blocked off, so we had no choice but to go and receive the key.

As we entered the billiards room, I could see hear "Cristofori's Dream" by David Lanz playing in the distance, and I had a nagging feeling that we were supposed to follow it to the source.

"This..way!" I slid down broken floorboard into the hole in the ground while Miles and Waylon hurried after me.

The hole dropped down into what seemed to be an abandoned, isolated boiler room, but the sound of the piano growing louder told me otherwise. There was a rusty ladder in the middle of the room, so we climbed up it and found a very narrow passageway to the next room. With our backs plastered to the wall, the three of us slowly made our way across.

Once we reached the end, Miles hopped down first before catching me then Waylon. I don't think Waylon is used to jumping into someone's arms because he almost kicked Miles in the head on his way down. The piano music was drifting from the adjacent door, and the three of us slowly crept up to the tiny window and peeked inside.

Illuminated only by candle light, a Variant sat with his back to us, playing the ivory keys with such grace and skill that I wondered if he was a musician prior to his admittance here.

Suddenly, the Variant stopped and blew out the candles, engulfing the room in complete darkness. I thought we scared him off but, I could feel air blowing against my face and nudged Miles to turn on the camcorder's night vision.

The Variant was two inches from my face, his eyes clear as glass and his face covered in stiches and fake skin. Then, after blowing another puff of air, he walked away and I had the urge to throw up.

"What the hell?" Waylon breathed, placing his hands on my shoulder and steering me away from the door.

The next room we waltzed into looked like a prop room for plays and operas, so that was a good sign that we were headed in the right direction.

Then, another hole in the wall appeared and we jumped down into a room full of chairs and dead bodies.

"Think this is it?" Waylon asked, pulling two batteries out of a guard's coat pocket and changing them out with his old ones.

"Possibly. Look," Miles pointed to the piano that Variant was playing a moment before. "I guess he **was** leading us here."

The keys were layered in dust, and no matter how many times I rubbed a key, the dust wouldn't go away.

Suddenly, a bright light shot out from the other side of the room and a picture began to play on the old projection screen hanging from the ceiling.

An old time theatre countdown flashed across the screen before a voice boomed from the speakers.

A familiar voice.

"…**exit interview recorded December 27, 1985 in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Clearance Sierra Alpha. Subject Dr. Rudolph Wernicke. 14866."**

This was the audio file I heard in the Basement!

Then images of the Morphogenic Engine appeared on the screen, and I had to advent my eyes as the infernal buzzing clawed through my brain once more.

Like before, Wernicke and the reporter talked about the Nazi experiments and Project Walrider, and I could still see those ancient photos of patients strapped to theirs beds with lead tumors covering each inch of their bodies.

"Didn't realize they had "Doctor Lovestrange" on file here." Miles muttered, recording the interview with a pained expression. Then as fast as lighting, he collapsed to the ground and clutched his head for dear life.

"Miles!" Waylon and I flew to his side and tried to calm him down, but it seemed he was listening to something we couldn't.

"It's…like swarming insects in my head." He groaned, his nails digging into his skull as if physical pain could override the mental pain. "Rorschach tests….the patients' screams…the Morphogenic Engine…I can feel…."

"What is are you talking about, Miles?! **Snap out of it!**" Waylon smacked Miles' hard across the face, and then Miles went completely silent.

For a moment, I thought Waylon knocked him out, but Miles' fist sent Waylon tumbling into a pile of chairs and called him an "ass hat", assuring me that my husband was alright.

"What…happened?" I reached out and took his hand in mine, trying to soothe him.

"I…don't know.." He touched his forehead gingerly. "My headaches are getting worse. Heh. Maybe this is what Father Martin wants. To finally drive me off the deep end."

I wanted to say something, but Waylon collected himself from the pile of rubble and rejoined us.

"You're welcome, y'know." He grumbled, rubbing the bump on his head.

"Well, we watched the movie, so let's go get the key and get the fuck out of here."

The further we went into the theatre, the more dead bodies we found. All of them were positioned at tables and had cups or plates postioned in front of them like someone was playing house with their bodies.

There was a small winding staircase in the corner that probably led up to the projection room, so we walked towards it.

"Watch your step." Miles said, as we tip toed up the rickety thing.

It opened up to a long hallway of lockers, some which were occupied.

"You have to find Wernicke." One of the occupants whispered. "It is the only way."

And for some reason, I felt the Variant wasn't addressing me or Waylon.

But Miles.

I held his hand tighter at the thought.

'No one is going to take him away from me. **No one.**'

After crawling under a few tables, the projection room came into sight. Yet before Miles could lay a hand on the knob, it flew open and a Variant screamed at us before slamming it shut.

"Thanks for the heart attack." Miles hissed, clutching his chest like the rest of us were doing.

"So what now?" Waylon wheezed. "The door is locked and-."

In the distance, the sound of another door opening could be heard and when we peeked around the corner, we spotted the 'peek-a-boo' Variant run down the hallway.

"There's our entrance, I guess." Miles stated, pushing Waylon forward.

Turns out the door led out to a partially destroyed balcony, and I could see the entrance to the projection room on the other side.

"Looks like we have to slide against the wall again."

And so we did, with much distain.

Once we were all safely on the other balcony, Miles immediately spotted the key to the 3rd floor and snatched it up.

We hurried back down to the theatre room, only for one of the barricaded doors to slam open and one of the Twins trudged inside with a machete; Miles had to slam his hand over Waylon's and my mouth to keep us from screaming bloody murder.

Staying in the shadows, we watched the hairy Twin inspect the room bit by bit until he was far away from the door. Once that happened, Miles pushed us forward and we stampeded towards the open door and up the stairs until we found ourselves back in the elevator area.

Except the other Twin happened to be waiting there, as if he was expecting us.

Easing Waylon and me behind him, Miles slowly walked towards the metal door, never taking his eyes off the Twin. He unlocked it quickly and shoved us inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

We scurried up the stairs to find more blood arrows and Father Martin's followers waiting us. The two followers locked two of the three doors behind them before walking away, I guess to ensure we didn't stray from Father Martin's path.

The lone door opened up to a large kitchen, probably the most organized looking one of all I've come across. On the right side, there was a pair of double doors, and when we opened it up, we found ourselves in a dark, dining room with a Variant staring out the floor-to-ceiling window at the raging storm.

And for some reason…I could hear prayer hymns echoing down the hallway.

I gulped in fear and squeezed Miles' hand.

'It sounds like a sacrifice is about to be made. I just hope it's not us.'

The window Variant glanced at us before gesturing to an open door on the left.

It led out to another hallway, and as we made our way down it, we discovered these were patient rooms.

And every single occupant was kneeling and clasping their hands together in prayer.

"It's getting louder…" Miles whispered, his hand going to his head. "Whatever Father Martin was preparing for, it's getting ready to start…"

With every Variant we found, the chanting grew louder and louder.

Then, as we reached a room with the shattered window and rain pouring in, a Variant actually said his prayer aloud.

"I am an unworthy supplicant, who can serve our lord only by feeding our lord. Please take me, Walrider. Let my shepherd's Apostle see it and spread it with his lies for a greater truth. Your time upon the world has come. My flesh longs for your beautiful wraith. My blood is filled with you and waiting to be set free. This is my prayer. Write your gospel in my flesh."

"Is there about to be a mass suicide?" Waylon gasped.

"Maybe or Father Martian's version of the rapture." Miles said before climbing on the broken window still and holding his hand out for me to take.

As we slid against the brick wall, the harsh rain drenched us to the bone, and I struggled to keep my footing on the slippery landing.

I wanted to kiss the carpet when we jumped into the next window, but I just settled for clinging to Miles'.

We had landed in another prayer room, but what caught my attention was the bloody writing on the hallway outside.

**GOD HATES SICKNESS**

"We must be getting close." Miles guided us down the hallway, finding more writing with every turn we took.

**GOD HATES MONEY**

**GOD HATES LIARS**

Then, we reached the closed doors of the chapel and the Twins stood on either side, staring at us with indifference.

"Right on time." The hairy one said.

"Father Martin is waiting for you,….Witness."

Whatever awaited us on the other side of that door, I could only hope it would spare us and let us return to our families.

Holding on tight to Miles and looking up at Waylon, the Twins slowly opened the double doors and we entered the chapel.

* * *

**A/N: Guess what happens in the next chapter? hehehe~ Look forward to the next chapter! Thank you so much for reading my fanfic! :D**


	58. The Passion of Father Martin

**A/N: I really do appreciate the love and support you guys give my story. Thank you, really. I hope my story continues to please you. **

**Welcome, all readers. Welcome.**

**Please enjoy.**

**Song of the Day: "The Witch and The Saint" by Steven Reineke**

* * *

(Young-ja)

The altar had been chopped to pieces, and in its place was a pile of wooden shards and Father Martin nailed to a large cross.

'I never expected him to go this far! Does he truly believe he is Jesus reincarnated?!'

Several of his followers were gathered at his feet, bent on their knees and bowing before their 'prophet'. They were also chanting in….**Latin**? They must have been the ones chanting the prayer hymns from before.

"**My son!**" Father Martin called out weakly, "Come closer! And my angel, you have served your purpose! Bless you for leading the apostle here!" Then he turned towards Waylon. "And Dear Shephard, did my guide lead you to your lambs? It would be a shame if you left without them."

"What?" Waylon stared at him with a vexed expression. "I still have no idea who my **'lambs'** are! Why don't you explain yourself instead of giving us this inane riddles?!"

"It is too late to worry about that now anyways. What's done is done." Father Martin ignored Waylon's demand and gasped, his palms gushing blood as the nails dug further into his wrinkly skin. "This is **my** job. My apostle, you alone shall escape and tell the world. This is your penultimate act of witness."

Then one of the followers knelt before Miles and offered up the main lobby elevator key on a red pillow, like it was a sacred offering.

And just as Miles picked it up, the sounds of church bells began to resonate throughout the room like a contract had just made.

"The promise of the prophets was always freedom from death." The 'priest' let out a pitiful laugh and smiled giddily "**And here it is.**"

"Is he really….?" Waylon breathed, his eyes wide in shock.

"You will watch and record my death, **my resurrection**. And together we will be free. You are no longer in danger. I've fixed the elevator. It will take you to freedom. We will…**all of us**…**will be free….**"

After a pregnant pause and a short prayer, Father Martin glanced towards the Variant holding a torch on his left and whispered, "Now, my son."

And then, Father Martin, the leader of the Walrider's cult, was engulfed in flames and slowly burned to death, his screams echoing throughout the chapel.

As we watched the man burn in complete horror, I took back the words I whispered to myself in the Female Ward.

It wasn't worth it anymore.

'You have done nothing but cause us trouble, you wretched man. But…I hope you have escaped this Hell and found your peace somewhere else. I….I honestly wish that for you. **Farewell, Martin Archimbaud**. **Rest in Peace.**'

* * *

(Miles)

'I can't believe Father Martin one-upped Jesus Christ himself in shitty ways to die.' I watched the poor bastard roast to a crisp on the wooden cross and covered my nose at the smell of burning flesh. 'Can't say I'm going to miss him though. A way out.' I looked down at the key in my hand, the golden object burning in my palm. 'If he's telling the truth, now we've got a way out. And a story to tell. He wants me to spread his gospel? **I'll tell the whole fucking world.**"

"Guys, we need to go **now**!" I grabbed Young-ja with one arm and Waylon with the other before tearing down the aisle and back out into the hallway.

'Are we….free..now?' Young-ja tugged me to a halt and looked up at me, hope all but shining in her eyes.

"Yes." I breathed out, my chest as light as air and I resisted the urge to scream in euphoria. "Yes, my love. **We are finally going home to our baby**."

She gave an airy laugh, and tears poured down her cheeks as tremors racked her body.

"Finally….it's all over….We are…going to make it out of here."

Unable to contain myself any longer, I picked her up and twirled her around, the hallway filled with our joyful laughter.

'**We made it! We are going home to Ae-cha!**'

"And Waylon," I looked at him, putting Young-ja down before giving him a solid pat on the back. "Make sure to hug your kids and kiss the daylights out of your wife, alright?"

"You don't' need to tell me twice." Waylon chuckled, doing the same to Miles before gesturing down the hallway. "C'mon, we need to get back to the elevator room first."

Instead of going back out the window, we found an air vent nearby and climbed inside it.

Though I would never admit it, I was going to miss tossing Waylon and Young-ja inside dusty air vents while we ran for our lives.

Just a tad though. **A tad**.

When we dropped down, we landed back in the patients dorms.

And the first thing I saw upon landing was Chris Walker's silhouette at the end of the hallway.

"**Of fucking course.**" I immediately pushed my two companions into the nearest room and slammed the door behind me. But, knowing Walker and his penchant of bursting through doors, we quickly hid underneath a bed and waited with baited breath.

Not a second later, the door shot off its hinges and Walker trudged inside mumbling, "Little Pigs….Little Pigs".

It was fitting really, Chris Walker was the **first Variant** I came across in the asylum, and now, God willing, he will be the **last Variant** I will see in the asylum.

After sniffing around the room a bit, Walker gradually stalked out of the room and continued down the hallway, still grumbling under his breath.

Once I was sure he was out of hearing range, I crawled out from under the bed and crept to the doorframe, looking both ways before gesturing to Young-ja and Waylon to follow.

We flew down the hallway until we ended back up in the dark dining area. The window Variant was missing but that was the least of my concerns.

Not when we were so close to freedom.

We bolted through the kitchen, then the elevator soon came into sight and I wanted to weep tears of joy.

'Almost there. We are **almost there**!'

"Pack your bags, guys!" I laughed, running into the elevator and turning the key, the machine slowly whirling to life. Then I turned and gazed at Young-ja who was still standing out in the hallway with Waylon, a huge smile on her face. "Let's go home." I held my hand out to her and she nodded, her eyes still wet, and reached towards me.

But suddenly, the elevator's metal gate slammed shut before we could touch and the last thing I saw before the elevator plummeted down…was Young-ja alarmed face and the sound of her screaming my name at the top of her lungs.

"**Miles!**"

"**Young-ja!"**

* * *

(Waylon)

I had no idea what just occurred.

Everything just happened so fast, and my brain was still catching up.

One moment everything was fine and we were about to get into the elevator, but then the gate just slammed shut and the elevator shot down, taking Miles with it.

"**Miles!**" Young-ja fell to her knees and began slamming her fist against the call button, as if it would bring the elevator back up. "**No! No! Bring him back! Bring him back now!**"

Her scarf was turning red, proving that her neck wounds were reopening the more she screamed and I tried to pry her away from the gate and calm her down.

"Young-ja, we need to get down st-!"

"**Angel**," A voice murmured from behind us, and I whipped around to see one of Father Martin's men with a huge cleaver in his hand. "Father Martin said your job was done. Now, you can shed your mortal form and be free; I was given the honor of helping you." With a deluded grin, he slowly stepped forward, raising the cleaver into the air. "I'll make your ascension as painless as possible, so please….**stay still**."

"**Oh God no..**" Young-ja whimpered from behind me as the Variant drew closer and closer. "**This….can't be happening…Not like this...**"

* * *

**A/N: Another reference to "The Parks" in the beginning. Please look forward to the next chapter.**


	59. The Spiral Downwards

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and supporting my story! I truly hope my story continues to please you.**

**Welcome new and old readers! And I hope all of you are safe with all the horrible weather happening.**

**Please enjoy!**

**Song of the Day: "Ghost Song" by Max Ablitzer**

* * *

(Young-ja)

I should've guessed that when Father Martin said I will 'shed my mortal form', he meant I was going to die.

And he must've known that after his death, the three of us would try to escape together and that is the reason he rigged the elevator so it would separate us.

I should've expected this, so why was I so surprised?

Hadn't I learned anything by now?

'What else could Father Martin have in store for Miles? If the elevator brought him to the main floor, he would've come back for us already, but it was going too fast for that, so he must've gone….**to the basement…**'

My breath hitched at the realization, and I could only pray that we would find Miles and escape before Billy got his hands on him.

Or before this deluded man chopped us to bits.

The Variant crept closer until his shadow loomed over us, his cleaver shining in the dim light.

"When you ascend to the Heavens, please welcome Father Martin into your arms." With the blade raised high the air, he was about to swing it down….when Waylon suddenly grabbed me and rolled out of the way.

"Wh-?"

"**Run, you idiot!**" Waylon yanked me up to my feet and dashed back down to the 2nd floor.

"Get back here!"

The gate to the bottom floor was locked, so we raced back out to the translucent window hallway and searched for a place to hide.

"Slide down that and keep going!" Waylon pointed to a pile of stacked shelves and tables before throwing me to the top and was about to follow suit when the Variant busted into the hallway and yanked Waylon back by his hair.

"**Ah!**"

"Waylon!" I gasped, about to climb back down but Waylon screamed for me to run away.

"Go, Young-ja! Get as far away as po-!" The Variant kicked Waylon in the face before he could finish and climbed on top of him.

"You have no place here." The Variant sneered, raising his cleaver up high. "May the Walrider have mercy on you."

Without a second thought, I leapt off the barricade and tackled the Variant from the side, causing him to drop his weapon in the process.

Seizing the opportunity, Waylon grabbed the cleaver and charged forward.

"**Young-ja, move!**"

I had barely a second to roll out of the way when Waylon jumped on top of the Variant and brought the blade down.

Over.

And over.

**And over.**

* * *

(Miles)

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I stared at the remains of Murkoff scientists smeared across the ceiling and walls as I opened the basement's metal door. 'If I die here, Waylon, don't let Young-ja see my body. Take my camcorder and leak the evidence to the world. Trust no one and tell everyone. Tell them we weren't crazy and don't call the evidence a gospel; call it a mockery of reason. Let the world know it was Murkoff's fault and bury the bastards' with my dead body.'

As I crept further into the room, I noticed a security camera blinking in the corner and realized it was same one that I first saw Young-ja in.

'She was down here. What did she see? How did she get back? Young-ja, please. Don't come back for me, just get out of here and go home to our daughter. I promise I'll try to escape, but I beg of you! **Leave now!** '

With no exit in sight, there was nowhere for me to go but deeper, so I steadied myself and continued down the cold hallway.

Nothing but dead bodies and blood caked the walls, and I knew I was staring at the results of the Walrider's outbreak.

'What more do I have to see? Haven't I fulfilled my duty as your apostle? Or…is there more?"

Then I saw it.

A sign pointing to the left, brandishing the words: **Morphogenic Engine Chambers**

'Does he expect me to meet the Walrider face to face? Or does he want me to meet its host?'

I shook my head and continued forward, my ragged breath echoing off the walls.

The labs I came across were full of chemicals, lab reports, and the remains of their former occupants.

And, in one of the smaller labs, I found the Morphogenic Equation. A few lines of mathematics, an algorithm. Nothing but a few numbers on a dry erase board.

My stomach turned at the sight, and my hands clenched into fists.

'It was made to reprogram us, turn us into nightmare factories. Give me a hacksaw and a few hours alone with Wernicke's corpse. I feel like I owe him a debt.'

* * *

I had seen nothing but horribly mangled corpses during my trek through the asylum, but here, in this empty, white basement, the sights unnerved me.

Like when you were a little kid and were walking down a dark hallway in your house, glancing back every few seconds because you felt someone **or something** was following you.

Hair standing on end, I dashed forward until I reached the end of the hallway and as I peeked through a dirty window, I saw something wonderful.

**An exit.**

Beautiful, bright sunlight was pouring from an open delivery door, and I didn't waste a second in hurrying towards it.

'How long has it been since I felt the warm sun on my face? It feels like centuries.'

But, just as I reached the connecting door, the buzzing sound tore through my skull and I crumbled to my knees.

It was ripping my mind apart.

**The static. **

**The buzzing. **

It was tearing my sanity limb from limb.

Then….I heard the whispering and I slowly gazed up to see the Walrider climbing out from beneath the doorway.

'**Shit!**' I stumbled to my feet and ran, ignoring my headache and attempting to navigate the hallways through my blurry vision.

I dashed towards the metal double doors and reached out for the handles….only for it to be opened up by Chris Walker.

I didn't have a chance to scream before I was plucked up and slammed against the floor, knocking the wind out of me.

"Little Pig, Little Pig," Walker growled, walking towards me as I tried to crawl away but to no avail. "No more escape."

But, before he could lay a hand on me, he was suddenly thrown back and smashed against the wall.

'What the?!' I quickly picked up my camera and turned on the night vision to see **the** **Walrider** attacking Walker.

Then just as it had begun, it swiftly ended.

The Walrider lifted Walker up and dragged him through an air vent, spraying his blood and remains across the wall.

"Oh God…" I put my hand to my face and stared at the blood that came off. "After everything you've done, **this is how you die**. Ripped to pieces from the inside, and having your marrow scattered on a concrete wall. You've done nothing but cause me and all the other patients' misery, but…who's to say it was your fault? You've escaped one Hell, Chris Walker. God help me, but I somehow hope you didn't find another."

Still feeling breathless, I stumbled to my feet, my limbs like Jell-O, and continued down the hallway.

As I passed by the Morphogenic sign once more, I…heard **someone** call out to me.

"Over here! I must try to…explain!"

'Someone is still alive?!'

Following the voice, I eventually found myself in a room split in half by a glass wall.

On my side, there was a pile of dead soldiers and puddles of blood.

On the other side, there was a small office with a painting and an array of bookshelves. And in the middle of the room, there was an elderly man in a wheelchair. His skin was transparent, a breathing tube was sticking out of his nose, and a white blanket covered his lap.

'My God….could this be….But isn't he supposed to be-?'

"I know, I know. I should be dead." The man said with a thick German accent, as if he could read my thoughts. "No….no such luck. I am older than sin, but somehow…the only one left. Because of Billy."

"You must be….**Rudolph Wernicke**." I whispered, still trying to comprehend what I was seeing.

"Yes, Herr Journalist. I am Doctor Rudolph Wernicke, creator of the Walrider." He wheeled his chair over to where I was standing, the machine making a whirling sound as it moved.

"How the fucking hell are you still alive? All the documents said you were dead!"

"Billy….he takes care of me. He may think I'm his father. Heh. He certainly loves me, the poor idiot."

I didn't know what to think. For the longest time, I thought this bastard was dead, and now that he was here, alive, I felt something in my head snap.

I punched the glass wall, splitting my knuckles back open, but he didn't seem surprised.

In fact, the bastard laughed.

"Heh. As I recall, your wife did the same thing when I said that."

"**WHAT?!**" I slammed my palms against the glass, my heart in my throat. "You met Young-ja?!"

"Was that her name? Yes, she was looking for you. She said you received a tip from one of the employees and that you never came home. The fraulien blamed me for everything, even tried to slam through the wall to strangle me. But, I told her everything and gave her a chance to end it all."

"What did you tell her?!" My nails scratched down the glass as I pressed myself closer. "**What did you do?!**"

Wernicke backed his wheelchair up and sat in front of a large insignia of the Walrider logo.

"Do you know what this symbol represents? It warns of a Nanohazard. Microscopic machines. Technology we have had for decades but have never mastered. Murkoff discovered, in my research, a workaround. Turning the cells in the human body to nano factories. It's the natural function of the cells to produce molecules, but through psychomatic direction, we engineered the precise molecules necessary. Mind over body." He then moved back in front of me, his gray eyes piercing my soul. "It was foolish of us to think we could control it."

"You are damn right! You psychotic fucks used innocent people, people who needed help, as your guinea pigs!"

Wernicke let out another laugh.

"You and your wife are truly alike. But, perhaps you can succeed where she failed."

A hole formed in the bottom of my stomach at his words.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me, did you ever reunite with your wife? Is she still…**alive**?"

"Yes! We were separated near the Administration Block exit, but **she is still alive**."

"The exit, you say?" He touched a button on his wheelchair and I could hear sirens in the distance.

"What did you just do?!"

"Nothing that concerns you. Herr Journalist, you…have to stop this. You have to kill Billy."

"…What?"

"Turn off his life support, his anesthesia. You have to undo what I've done."

"So you want me to do your dirty work? To kill the kid and you walk away scotch free?!" I punched the glass wall again, wishing it was Wernicke's face. "Haven't you hid long enough?! All of your scientists are dead, and here you are, hiding from your mistakes!"

"Billy won't let me leave. I'm as much a prisoner as you are. No one can get out of this place while he lives. Not me, not you, and not your wife. You must kill him…and bring an end to all of this. The Morphogenic Engine is self-perpetuating. I pray to God you have the strength to end it all here…**with your death**."

"I don't plan on dying here. I will cut off Billy's life support, claw my way out of here, and be free to expose Murkoff and you to the world. And I will thoroughly enjoy watching you get torn to pieces."

"Do you really think Billy will let you end his life so easily? Heh. Perhaps you will be the victor. Yet I can only hope," As he spoke, he pulled a severed arm out from underneath the blanket on his lap and tossed it against the glass window, "that Billy will treat you better than he did your wife."

* * *

(Young-ja)

I watched Waylon sit on top of the Variant, panting heavily with his face covered in blood.

His eyes were so wide and his face so pale, I was afraid to approach him. I could barely move myself anyways.

'What are we going to do? How will we get to Miles if the elevator won't work?'

However, I didn't have time to dwell on that for long.

A siren blasted through the speakers and the barricaded door in the lobby shattered open moments later.

I crawled to the translucent window, and even though the image was distorted, I could still make out a large group of people charging in with weapons. They wore the same uniforms as the dead soldiers scattered across the asylum, and a lump appeared in my throat.

It was Murkoff's Tactical Unit.

"All teams authorized for deadly force!" The commander shouted out to his men. "Repeat, all teams authorized for deadly force! Kill anything that moves!"

"Waylon." I whispered, turning back towards him as he continued to stare blankly ahead. "We…we need to hide. We have to hide until they go away, then we can go get Miles."

He still said and did nothing.

"Way-."

"Corporate cops, mercenaries, private military contractors, whatever they call them now. They're as helpless as the rest of us." Slowly, he looked at me, the blooding dripping down his face. "We need to escape. **Now.**"

* * *

**A/N: Please look forward to the next chapter! :)**


	60. Until Death Do Us Part

**A/N: I am eternally grateful for all the reviews and love you guys have given my story. I hope it continues to please you.**

**Welcome all readers. Please enjoy.**

**Song of the Day: "Angel Kisses" by Thad Fiscella**

* * *

(Miles)

My throat dried up as Young-ja's arm banged against the glass window before sliding down and leaving a trail of blood behind.

"..How…did..you..?"

"It was gift from Billy. He dropped it in front of me and said it was part of 'Mother'."

"It was the Walrider that attack her? But, Young-ja never told me that-."

"She never said how her arm was taken? Heh. Maybe she was afraid to admit it."

My head was pounding and my vision faded to pure red as his laughter echoed through my mind.

"Are you angry, Herr Journalist? Good, use anger to kill Billy. Don't let your heart be clouded with pity…like your wife did."

"**SHUT UP!" **I punched the glass wall over and over, leaving bloody prints with each strike. **"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED WAS ALL YOUR FUCKING DOING!"**

Wernicke said and did nothing, just turned his chair away so his back was to me.

"Shut off the valve to Billy's Life Support Fluid Reservoir, then disable the power to the machine. Once you've done that, you can override his life support's failsafe." He sighed, staring at the painting in front of him. "Then everyone will be free, Herr Journalist. **Everyone.**"

I glared at his back, wanting nothing more than to tear the wall down and rip the bastard to pieces.

But, instead, I whispered, "I'll be back for you," and tore out of the room, heading towards the Morphogenic Chambers.

* * *

(Young-ja)

"Waylon!" I whispered as he pratically dragged me down the hallway. "We..can't leave! We have to…find…Miles!"

"We can't risk that." He replied coolly. "The Tactical Unit was been ordered to kill anything that moves. We can't worry about him. Right now, we need to get downstairs and hurry out of here."

"**No!**" I tore my arm out of his grip and backed away. "I did not…come here…only to leave emptyhanded! I promised our daughter….that I would come home with Miles…and I'll be damned…if you are going to stop me!"

"Young-ja! Keep your voice down!"

"Why…are you…being so heartless?! Why won't you-?!"

"**Because I made a promise, alright?!**"

* * *

(Waylon)

_"What I am about to ask you is very important. You have to promise to go through with it no matter what, alright?"_

_A sense of dread crawled up my spine at his words, and my palms began to sweat._

_But, I didn't question it. I just steeled myself and looked him straight in the eye, hoping whatever he was about to ask wasn't something life threating._

_"…Alright. I promise."_

_Miles glanced down at Young-ja's sleeping form before looking me dead in the eye._

"_If anything should happen to me, I want you and Young-ja to escape without me. You can take my jeep, keys are beneath the sun visor."_

"…_What?" I breathed out, trying to process his insane request. "How…how can you ask me to do such a thing? No way are we leaving you behind!"_

"_So what do you plan on doing then? Coming after me and end up lost in the asylum? Dragging my dead body behind you and risk getting captured by another Variant?" His tone and gaze were cold as steel "Don't be stupid, I am going to escape with you guys, but…this is just in case…something does happen."_

"…_.Do you honestly expect Young-ja to leave quietly if you're not with us?"_

"_That is why…I need you to promise me that you will get her out of here. I don't care if you have to tie her up and carry her out, all that matters to me is that she is safe and that one of us can expose Murkoff. If it is not me, then it is you."_

"_But…."_

"_Do I have your word?"_

"_Miles, I-."_

"_**Do I have your word?**__"_

"…_..Yes." I sighed, shaking his out stretched hand. "You have my word."_

* * *

(Young-ja)

"You…promised **what?**" I bunched up the front of his jumpsuit in my hand and dragged him down to my level. "How could you…make such a foolish promise?!"

"Do you think I want to leave Miles behind?!" Waylon shot back, a flicker of emotion flashing across his eyes. "I want nothing more than to go after him, but he is right! Miles came here to expose Murkoff and it would be an insult to everything he went through-Hell, everything we went through- if we let it all go to waste by dying here!" He yanked me into his arms, and I slowly released my hold on him, tears pouring down my cheeks as I processed his words. "Your safety is his top priority. The evidence is important to him too, but…not as much as knowing you are alive. And, I realize I may have no right to say this, but I think of Miles as a dear friend and honorable man. So, please, let's respect his wish and end this nightmare."

I said nothing, but I allowed him take me by the hand again and silent followed after him, the sound of bullets and stomping echoing from the bottom floor.

'**Miles….**'

* * *

(Miles)

There he was, inside a glass sphere in the middle of the room.

The Walrider's host and the cause of the outbreak.

"So you're Billy Hope." I stared at the man inside the glass sphere, tubes jutting out from his ragged body and his eyes glued on the Morphogenic Therapy images. "The reports say you are twenty-three years old. For what I can see, you look more like fifty years of rough road. Killing you would be an act of kindness."

The kid didn't even acknowledge me.

"After everything you've done, I would love to take pleasure in killing you, but you're not even human anymore, are you? Perhaps you cannot fully control the Walrider and were too far gone to be a stable host, so I pity you in a sense. But, it is time to end this, William Hope. Whether you want it or not."

Giving him one last look, I spun towards the Fluid Reservoir room and made me way towards it, ready to end this horror show once and for all.

* * *

(Young-ja)

There were military police officers swarming down every hallway.

Waylon and I could barely move an inch without a solider running by, forcing us to hide.

It was all falling apart.

The soldiers were killing Variants left and right, and Chris Walker was nowhere in sight. In the back of my mind, I wondered where he was. Maybe he could bust out of the wall like he always does, and give Waylon and me the chance to run.

But no such luck.

So Waylon and I just huddled in a locker and waited.

'Please, Miles.' I placed my hand over my heart and prayed. 'Please….**come back to me.**'

* * *

(Miles)

Wernicke wasn't lying when he said Billy wouldn't make this easy for me.

I had just shut off the Fluid Reservoir tank, aka Billy's lungs, and the Walrider was hot on my tail.

'I don't care though. Fuck it all. Break it all. He has to die.'

The whispering had become screams, like Billy knew what was happening.

'I have to shut off the power now!' I jumped over the railing and rolled onto the bottom floor, not bothering with the stairs.

As I ran for my life, I peeked over my shoulder to find a large black shadow spiraling towards me.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!'

The power switch was on the other side of the laboratory, and as I flew by the sphere, I swear I saw Billy watching me.

My lungs were on fire, but I couldn't stop.

I needed to kill the bastard.

And, if I was lucky, Wernicke would be next.

Reaching the top of the stairway, I slid underneath a pile of barrels and kept going, the dark hallway illuminated by flashing sirens.

The whispering never stopped, so neither did I.

There was another stairway I had to race up, and the higher I went, the more I suspected that it was an illusion.

Like Billy was mocking me with Penrose Stairs.

When I finally reached the top, the hallway had collapsed, meaning I had to jump to the other side. I barely made it, but I knew my ribs were going to be in horrible shape if this continued.

I crawled to my feet, only to see Billy floating above me and I scurried away, desperate to shut the power off before the bastard got any closer.

My heart was in my throat as I hurdled over crates and vats as the shadow grew closer and closer.

The fuse box was at the end of the hallway, and with one hand shielding my face, I yanked out the wires and immediately heard Billy's distorted screaming resonate throughout my mind.

'Have to hurry back." I whipped around and hopped over the ledge, landing on all fours on a connecting bridge and ran for my fucking life.

The bridge began to quiver under my feet and I prayed that Billy wasn't planning on crushing it and sending it down into the abyss below.

When I reached the gap again, I leapt across…only to be snatched up by Billy while I was still airborne.

"Let me go!" I struggled against his grip, but he paid me no heed, opting to thrash me around the in the air as I screamed bloody murder.

"**LET ME GO!**"

And this time, he listened.

I was dropped down three stories and slammed against the concrete floor, in too much pain to properly scream.

I could feel my humerus on the verge of popping out of my Glenoid Cavity, but I still pulled myself up and limped back to the Engine Room, ready to finish this.

'Once I've shut off Billy's fail safe, I'll be free. Whether I live or die here, I'm free….**I'm free.**'

* * *

(Young-ja)

I stared down at the Twins' bodies, both of them covered in bullet holes and their eyes still wide open.

While Waylon and I were hiding in the locker, the Twins came by, ready to fight off the soldiers, only to be put down immediately.

No hesitation, no questions.

When the soldiers' footsteps faded away, the two of us ventured out of the locker and observed the corpses before us.

They were Father Martin's right hand men; they did everything for him. They even spared our lives at his request. But I still remembered when I first came across them. They wanted to split my organs amongst themselves and treated me as easy prey. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about them, but I knew I wasn't supposed to be sorrowful.

So….**why was I crying?**

I should've been furious, afraid, indifferent, but now, I was just tired.

I wanted to lie down in the fetal position and cry.

I wanted to mourn the patients.

I wanted to mourn my physical state.

And I wanted mourn my husband's unknown condition and how I was betraying him.

Waylon crouched next to me and wrapped me in his arms, like he understood what I was feeling.

And….in the distance….I could hear soldiers thundering down the hallway.

Both of us went deadly still.

What could we do? By the time we could crawl back into the locker, we would be spotted, and the soldiers would hear the door close anyways.

So, what could we to do but wait?

Waylon held me tight as the sound of military boots grew closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Until…

"**MULTIPLE OFFICERS DOWN IN SUB BASEMENT! UNKNOWN ASSAILANT! WE NEED EVAC AND PARAMEDICS NOW!" **A frantic voice boomed from the soldiers' headphones and they stopped in place, just an inch away from turning the corner and finding us.

"Alright men, you heard Sargent Myers! Hurry to the basement, **STAT**!"

"Yes, sir!" The soldiers' replied, turning around and dashing back down the hallway.

Once the coast was clear, Waylon let out a sigh of relief, while I remained still.

'The basement? Oh no, Miles!'

"We need to go now!" Waylon hopped to his feet and pulled me up. "While they are distracted, we can leave safely!"

Waylon dragged me down the hallway until we ended up back in the elevator room and found that the barricade was gone.

As we hurried to the bottom floor and the exit was in sight, a part of me wanted to become stone so Waylon couldn't leave and he would have no choice but to let me get Miles.

But I let him dragged me into the main lobby, and there, sitting in the doorway, was Jeremy Blaire.

I had forgotten about him, but apparently Waylon had not.

"Son of a bitch is still alive." He whispered, his grip on my hand getting tighter. "No way in Hell is he stopping us for getting out of this godforsaken place."

"Mr. Park?" Blaire groaned, his hand on his bleeding side. "How the fuck are you still alive? **And, you!** How…are you both still alive?"

"None of your business." Waylon spat, standing his ground.

"H-Hey, let's…make a deal. You help me, I'll help you. God….I'm stuck like a pig."

"Where is Chris Walker when you need him?" Waylon muttered under his breath.

"Help me up. Please." Blaire whimpered, trying to appeal to our sympathies.

It didn't work.

"Stay close." Waylon whispered to me before pressing forward, hoping to side step around his former boss and make a run for it.

However, once we were within a foot of Blaire, everything went into slow motion.

I could see something shiny in Blaire's hand and immediately knew what it was. As Blaire pouched, whipping out a butcher knife, I pulled Waylon back and attempted to push him away.

Instead, the blade pierced my chest as I flew backwards and Waylon crumbled down with me, catching me and shouting my name over and over.

"**Young-ja**!" He held his hands over my wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "**Oh no, no, no, NO!**"

"No one can know!" Blaire growled, limping towards us and brandishing his knife. "No one!"

As our assailant drew closer and Waylon held me close and tried to stop the bleeding, I could only do one thing: I gathered all my strength and screamed his name at the top of my lungs.

"**MILES!**"

* * *

(Miles)

The moment I shut off Billy's fail safe, I watched him thrash around in his sphere, the space rapidly becoming red with its occupant's blood.

However, I couldn't enjoy my victory for long.

Before I could blink, I was slammed against the glass orb and yanked around to face a deteriorating Walrider now without a host to control it.

'Fuck!' He lifted me up and smashed me against the concrete wall.

I collasped to the ground, holding my camcorder to my chest as I whimpered in agony.

'I should've expected this. I should've known!'

As I tried to crawl away, I was suddenly yanked up by my ankle and dragged across the floor.

"**No! NO! NO!**" I crawled at the concrete floor before I was tossed into the air and slammed against the wall.

Then…words cannot describe the ungodly and immeasurable pain that tore through my body as the Walrider stuck into claws into my abdomen and tore into my insides.

I couldn't breathe. The buzzing and whispering were now swarming throughout my body, and pulsing through my veins until I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside.

'**I lied. I don't want to die. Not here. NOT HERE!'**

Then, just when I couldn't take it anymore, I was plummeting to the ground and screamed as I felt several of my bones shatter from the fall.

And I laid there, feeling nothing yet feeling everything.

The buzzing and whispers had disappeared, but something else had taken its place.

Something I didn't want to think about.

Letting out a pathetic sob, I lifted myself up on my elbows and slowly crawled to my feet.

'It's all over now. Please…give me enough strength to make it out of here. Let me make it outside.'

With a hand supporting my cracked ribs, I hobbled to the stairway, my vision fading in and out with every step I took.

My throat tasted of copper, and I cried every time I collapsed to the ground, my body slowly shutting down.

But I refused to die.

Not here.

Just…let me feel the sunlight.

'Can't you at least grant me that?'

As I stumbled down the hallway, using the wall as a crutch, images flashed through my mind.

Trager, the bastard who stole my fingers.

Father Martin, the piece of shit that dragged me through into the asylum.

The Twins, Eddie Gluskin, the Murkoff officials, Billy Hope, and Rudolph Wernicke.

May they all die here.

May they all be buried here.

I couldn't feel a thing a now, and as I reached the double doors leading outside, they opened up before me.

And there stood a batch of military officers and Wernicke sitting behind them with a blank expression on his face.

"No.." I whispered, holding my hands out in surrender. "I'm not your enemy! I did as you asked, Wernicke! I KILLED BILLY FOR YOU!"

"Ready on Five!" The lieutenant commanded and all seven guns were aimed at me.

"Please!" I screamed, falling to my knees. "Just let me die in the sunlight! Please!"

But my words fell on deaf ears, and as their bullets ripped through me, I couldn't help but laugh.

'How ironic. I went through all of Hell….just to die near the exit.'

As I fell onto my back, my vision began to dim and my consciousness faded into nothing.

But….just before everything became black, I heard it.

Young-ja's voice.

"**MILES!**"

She's…calling out to me.

I…I have to go..to her…

I have…to see her...!

And at that moment, the infernal buzzing crawled through my body and I felt something lift off the floor.

Everything…had….become…RED….

"Gott im Himmel. You…have become the host."

And the last thing I remember….was the sound of military soldiers getting torn to shreds.

* * *

(Young-ja)

My throat burned and tasted of raw copper, when Blaire finally loomed above us, I waited for him to bring his blade down.

But, in the distance, I heard familiar whispering rising from the ground.

'Billy?'

Suddenly, the Walrider shot out of the floor and lifted Blaire into the air.

"**GRAH? WHAT THE FUCK…..! OH GOD! OH CHRIST IN HEAVEN HOW DID IT GET OUT?!"**

The Walrider wrapped itself around Blarie's flailing body and snapped him into pieces, raining his blood down on Waylon and I before disappearing.

As Waylon gasped and covered his face, I stared up at where the Walrider once was, tears streaming down my cheeks as his name slipped through my lips again.

"…**Mi…les?**"

"Young-ja! We need to get out of here!" He tore a piece of my poncho off and held it against my chest. "Just hold on! I'll get you out of here!"

As he swept me up in his arms, I continued to stare at the ceiling in utter shock through my blurry vision.

"Miles…?" I whispered again.

"What?" Waylon asked as he neared the doorway. "What are you talking about?"

"That was….Miles." I whispered, closing my eyes as the bright sun shone on my face and I meekly covered my mouth as the truth hit me. "**Miles..has become the Walrider.**"

'Oh, Miles. What have they done to you?'

"Don't talk anymore, Young-ja." Waylon snapped, limping down the stairway. "We need to get into the Jeep and I'm taking you to the hosp-."

"Waylon, put me down."

"Wha-?"

"Put…me down."

After hesitating for a moment, he placed me down on my feet and I slumped against him, my white poncho and dress quickly becoming crimson red.

"Young-ja, wha-?"

"Go on…without me, Waylon."

"I told you, I made a-!"

"That promise…isn't valid anymore." I rested my forehead against his chest, feeling frozen despite the sunset beating against my back. "Leave me here…and escape. Tell the world…what really happened and…finish this…**for all of us**."

"I can't do that!"

"And," I lifted my hand to my mouth, sliding off my rings with my mouth, and placed them in Waylon's quivering palm. "I want you….to bring these to our daughter."

"Youn-!"

"Tell her, Mommy is sorry."

Waylon was shaking and I could feel his tears falling into my hair.

"Go." I whispered, gently pushing him forward with a weak smile. "Go home…to your family…and…make sure none of this…was in vain."

Waylon covered his mouth as he stifled back a sob, but he slowly nodded and began walking backwards, afraid to take his eyes off of me.

"Goodbye, Waylon." I smiled, my tears stinging my face. "Thank you..for everything."

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. After a few failed attempts, he just nodded again and with one last look, he whipped around and limped towards Miles' jeep.

Coughing up sputum, I struggled to stay standing and turned around to see a dark cloud pouring out of the asylum.

"Miles…" I whimpered, "I can't…leave without you. You…promised we'd always…be together. For better and for worse. Until death do us part."

I could make out a form in the cloud and limped towards it, only for the figure to back away.

"Please…don't run away from me, Miles." I wept, coughing up more blood. "Please…."

I could no longer stand up and fell to the ground.

But instead of smacking against the gravel, a pair of cold arms caught me and I gazed up into the eyes of my husband. His hands were like little tiny spiders crawling across my skin, he was covered in a dark shadow, and he faded in and out with the sunlight.

And, it was still my husband.

This was still my Miles.

I smiled at that and I lifted my hand up to caress his face, his tears like smoke against my fingers.

"Let's…go…home." I whispered, my body getting colder and colder. "Let's…go…home….**together**."

And the last thing I saw before everything went dark….was Miles' sobbing face.

"**YOUNG-JA!"**

* * *

(Waylon)

I watched the entire thing unfold from the jeep.

"Miles," I gasped, "You've really become the Walrider."

Young-ja was saying something to him, when suddenly, I saw her eyes close and her arm fall to the side.

'…No…Oh God no!'

Miles' began to shake her, calling out her name, but she never responded.

And as Miles buried his face against her body, the black cloud began to swirl around like a hurricane and it swept out towards the jeep.

I tried to get it into reverse, but the cloud had surrounded the jeep before I could. And what I thought was a sign of malice, was actually an act of mercy.

The cloud whipped the jeep around and rammed it through the gates, like it was telling me to leave.

And…the last thing I heard before I raced down the mountain, was the distorted sound….of Miles weeping.

* * *

(3 months later)

"You press that button, there is no going back, Mr. Park."

I glanced up from my laptop screen to gaze at the man standing before me. He was the owner of ViraLeaks, the same website that Miles used to publish the Afghanistan incident years ago. "There's enough hard evidence in that video file to make a world of shit for our friends at Murkoff. You got out of Mount Massive alive, and we've done everything in our power to cover your tracks, but our enemies are twitchy and malicious corporate paranoiacs with resources you are too moral to imagine. You won't be the only target. Anyone you care about, your wife, your children, they'll be nothing to Murkoff but ways to hurt you." The man uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on the table, staring me straight in the eye. "I need you to understand the bridge you are crossing here. You will bring irrevocable damage to the company, you might even get close to something like justice. But, once you click upload, your life is over. Everyone you love is fucked. But it's the right thing to do. **Is hurting Murkoff worth that much to you?**"

I stared back down at my computer screen.

My reunion with my family was bittersweet. My boys clung to me with tears running down their cheeks, and Lisa, oh Lisa, she refused to leave my side even after I was discharged from the hospital.

But, now, we had to go into hiding.

The moment this footage hits the internet, our lives as the Parks are over.

And nothing will be the same.

But, the people that really stood out in my mind were Miles, Young-ja, and Ae-cha Upshur

Their smiling faces and that final image of them on the steps of the asylum.

And the look on little Ae-cha's face when I gave her mother's wedding rings to her.

'This is for all of you.' I clicked the 'Upload' button and slammed the laptop shut. 'The Mount Massive Asylum case…is now closed.'

* * *

**A/N: Look forward to the next chapter. Yes, there is a little more that needs to be written. Thank you guys for everything. **


	61. Milestones

**A/N: Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much for the review, support, and love you have given my story. I hope my story has pleased you.**

**Thank you so much.**

**Welcome all readers. Welcome. Please enjoy.**

**Song of the Day: "I'll See You in my Dreams" by The Real Tuesday Weld**

* * *

My parents never came home that night.

I waited for five days at Mrs. Johnson's house with my grandparents, but nothing happened.

No phone call.

No news report.

Nothing.

Then, on the sixth day, a call came from a hospital in Lake County; one of their patients knew my parents and wanted to see me in person. And, in my pure childish mind, that mean this person had my parents with them.

Words cannot explain the joy that phone call gave me, and I was practically bouncing around the house and was already in _Nonno_ Upshur's car before they could pull their coats. During the drive, _Nonno_ and _Nonna_ sat up front while _Halapoji_ and _Halmoni_ sat in the back with Annie and me.

Two year old me couldn't understand why everyone was so quiet. After all, wasn't this person going to give me Mommy and Daddy back? I had prayed every night that if my family was brought back to me, I would be a better daughter. I would finish all my vegetables, I would stop playing in Daddy's office, I would give away all my toys, and I would even stop asking for Mommy and Daddy to play with me.

If I could have my family back, then I would give up anything.

When we reached the hospital hours later, I raced inside the moment I was unbuckled and tugged on the information nurse's scrubs.

"Take me to Mommy and Daddy, please!" I smiled, bouncing on my heels.

The nurse looked down at me in wonder before gazing back at my grandparents. With an amused smile, _Nonno_ leaned in close and whispered something in her ear, her expression becoming stern within seconds.

We were led down several hallways until we reached a secluded patient room on the 5th floor. There was a bunch of scary men in black suits surrounding the outside of the door. Excited, I raced towards the doorway and got on my toes to open the door, when one of the scary men pulled me back.

"Grown-ups need to go first, Miss Upshur." He said in a funny accent, so I sat on a bench next the door and watched my grandparents go into the room. Another nurse came by and tried to take Annie from me, but I wouldn't let her. No one else was going to disappear on me. Eventually, one of the men told her to leave me be, and I stuck my tongue out at her.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours.

I kicked my feet back and forth impatiently, wishing I could go inside and have the person give me my parents' back already.

And, just when I was about to doze off from boredom, the door opened and the man with the funny accent took me by the hand and led me into the room; my eyes immediately went to its occupants.

_Nonno_ was sitting next to the door, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking. _Nonna_ was sitting next to him, her eyes screwed shut as tears poured down her cheeks. _Halapoji_ and _Halmoni_ were standing near the sink. _Halapoji_ was staring at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes were all puffy. _Halmoni_ was knelt on the ground, her face veiled behind her hair, but like _Nonno_, her shoulders were also shaking.

And, in the middle of the room, there was a man in a hospital bed with a woman and two little boys sitting with him. The woman looked at me for a moment before suddenly turning away, covering her mouth with her hand as tears rolled down her face. The older boy was sitting on the woman's lap, a mixture of confusion and distress swirling around his eyes. The younger boy, who was also on the woman's lap, displayed no signs of distress or worry, instead he just looked confused as to why I was here. And the man who was sitting in the bed, had the most painful expression on his face. When we made eye contact, the man let out a tiny gasp, and he bit his lip like he was trying not to scream.

I couldn't understand why everyone was crying. Why was everyone sad? This was supposed to be a happy moment!

"Where is Mommy and Daddy?" I asked.

The moment the words left my mouth, _Nonna_ cried aloud and _Nonno_ pulled her into his arms, while _Halapoji's_ face pinched up and _Halmoni_ curled her hands into fists.

The man closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment, before slowly opening his eyes back up and he reached out for me.

With Annie still in my arms, I made my way to the edge of the bed and let the man lift me up on the bed.

"Cute dog you get there." The man gave a small smile as he stroked her fur.

"Thank you!" I grinned widely. "She is Annie! Daddy brought her home for Mommy!"

His breath hitched at the mentioned of my parents, and I began to get this uneasy feeling.

"Where is Mommy and Daddy?" I asked again, looking him straight in the eye. "Are they hiding?" I whipped my head around the room but couldn't find a hiding spot. "Come out! Come out!"

"Ae-cha," The man whispered, his voice shaking. "Your…parents aren't here."

"What?" I held Annie closer, the uneasy feeling growing. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," He took one of my hands and placed something cold in my open palm, "…..your parents aren't coming home."

* * *

"Ae-cha!" Ban Woo-jin called out to me as I passed through the school gates, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned around and smiled at my friend, waiting for him to catch up with me.

"_Sunbae_," I greeted. "What are you still doing here? I thought you left hours ago."

"Well," He panted, his hands on his knees after sprinting across the school yard. "I **planned **on leaving early, but I fell asleep in the astronomy room by accident."

I laughed at my friend's ditzy nature and gave him a pat on the back.

"And what about you?" He rubbed his sore neck. "It will be midnight soon, y'know."

"I was in the library, doing some studying." I patted the books in my bag. "I guess I got too caught up and lost track of time."

"Eh? Why? We don't have any tests this week."

"There many things to study besides school material, _Sunbae._" I smiled before glancing at my watch. "Say, don't you ride the bus home? The last one leaves in three minutes."

"Shit!" Woo-jin screamed and tore down the sidewalk at breakneck speed, shouting a "See you tomorrow" behind him.

I laughed to myself once again before turning on my heel and walking the opposite way. There was a cool night breeze passing by, and I closed my eyes to enjoy it.

And as I let myself get lost in the breeze, my mind began to wander along with it.

Even after my mom's rings were presented to me, I refused to believe my parents were dead. No, they both made a promise to come back to me, and I knew they would keep it.

I told myself my parents just go lost or were hiding as part of a game.

But three months later, the man, Waylon Park, uploaded his footage to the web, and I saw for myself the horror my parents went through. I saw my mom and dad, beaten to a pulp and missing body parts as horrible creature chased after them. I never finished watching the video though; one of my grandparents pulled me away from the screen and unplugged the computer.

I was an orphan now, and the time had come to decided where I would live.

Just in time for my 3rd birthday.

"No!" I cried, stamping my foot as my future was discussed in the living room. "This is my house! What if Mommy and Daddy come back, and I am not here?! I am staying here!"

For the past few months, both of my grandparents lived alongside me in the house, trying to take my mind and their own off my parents' fate. But, they couldn't stay there forever and neither could I.

So a decision had to be made.

Since they were closer, I went to live with my dad's parents in Kansas City. They loved me to death and made sure I was never alone, but….they weren't my parents.

I slept in my dad's old room, letting the familiar smells rock me to sleep every night. Since I was still a small child, _Nonno_ and _Nonna_ would take turns bring me to work, always engaging me in their occupations and never letting me feel left out.

Then, when I was almost five, it came to light some people were looking for me. It was inevitable really. Even after the footage was released and Murkoff took a huge blow, there were still untouchable officials who would go to their graves to make sure their secrets would stay secrets.

Waylon Park and his family disappeared, and since my parents were in the footage and my dad was studying Murkoff, I had to do the same.

Since it was better to leave the country, I was sent to live with my Mom's parents.

_Nonno_ and _Nonna_ gave me a tearful goodbye at the airport with an abundance of hugs and kisses, but I didn't shed a single tear.

I hadn't cried since the moment Waylon Park gave me my mother's rings because I had nothing to cry about. I still believed my parents were out there.

Life with my _Halapoji _and _Halmoni_ was vastly different than life in the States. They weren't as affectionate and loving, but they took care of me. I had heard stories from my _Nonno_ that they were hard on my mom, made her study hard every day, and that they fiercely objected to her dating Dad.

But, they don't treat me like that.

Perhaps it is out of guilt.

But I still work hard at school and bring home excellent grades, so they cannot complain either way. I live in my mom's old room. I have added a few personal touches here and there, but it has remained the same overall. And as I lie in bed every night, if I concentrate hard, I can smell her and that is what helps me sleep at night.

I try my best to be a good granddaughter. I help around the house, and do my best not to give them trouble. I wash my school uniform every night and make sure to dress appropriately, so I will not embarrass them. I also send e-mails to my _Nonno_ and _Nonna_ using a private server so they can still keep in contact with me. Programming is one of my hobbies, and when I can find the time, I like to fiddle around with various gadgets and codes. I enjoy listening to music, but I never inherited my mom's talent for it nor my dad's way with words.

And so, here I am at 16 years old.

From all the photos I have seen, I look like my mom, but I have my father's eyes and his height. I'm by no means the tallest girl in school, but I am definitely not the shortest. I don't know what characteristics I inherited from my parents, but I like to believe I have my mom's kindness and my dad's wit. I wear their rings around my neck every day. They hang on a long chain I bought when I turned eleven, and I haven't taken it off since. Even though my school doesn't allow us to alter our uniforms or wear jewelry, I still wear it under my uniform, and as I feel the cold rings against my chest, I feel like everything is bearable and it keeps my hopes alive.

And, once in a while, I pull out the photo albums I took from our old house and gaze at the pictures of my parents through their time from college to my 2nd birthday. I wonder what they would look like now, what it would be like to come home from school and be asked about my day, to watch my mom perform in the orchestra, to read about my dad's brilliance in the journalism field, to learn how to ride a bike under their watchful gaze, to cry about stupid things and have them comfort me.

To just….grow up with my parents by my side….like it was supposed to be.

A small bark snapped me out of my daze, and I gazed down to find Annie at my heels.

"Hey there, Annie." I smiled, crouching down to pet her. "What are you doing here so late at night? You should be at home sleeping."

The Welsh Corgi, who had clearly aged, was my faithful companion over these past fourteen years. While I did have some friends at school here, none of them compared to Annie.

"C'mon, Cinnamon Roll," I sighed, standing back up and dusting my skirt off. "Let's go home."

And so the two of us walked down the empty street, the street lights our only source of light. But, as we passed through Eunpa Park, the wind suddenly became violent and I pulled my jacket closer to fight off the cold.

"A bit windy, eh?" I chuckled, watching Annie squint against the wind.

Suddenly, Annie started barking and raced off.

"**Annie!**" I gasped, quickly giving chase. "Wait up!"

The wind had gotten impossibly brutal, and my hair ribbons were yanked out of my hair, setting my long hair lose in the wind.

"Annie!" I pushed my hair out of my face and pushed forward, spotting her sitting on the gazebo out in the middle of the lake.

"Annie," I sighed, racing across the stepping stones and waltzing up to the gazebo. "Where do you thi-?"

Suddenly, the wind stopped and everything went still.

Annie was staring at me, her tongue hanging like she does when she is happy.

Then, I felt something touch my shoulder.

My breath caught in my throat, and I placed my hand on my shoulder, only to touch nothing.

But I could still fell something there.

So, as carefully as I could, I reached into my school bag and took out my phone. Taking a deep breath, I turned it on and flipped it to the selfie camera.

And there…..standing right next to me…

Was my parents.

I had always suspected. After watching Waylon Park's video when I was older and reading the documents he recorded and finally watching the final part where my mom was laying in the arms of the Walrider, I always had my suspicions, especially since my parents' bodies were never found.

That is why I stay late every night at the library, not to do homework, but to study what happened at Mount Massive and its experiments. To understand what happened and all the results of the incident.

And, for all of my life, I always felt like someone was watching over me.

Not a guardian angel, but something more familiar.

And, now, I had my proof.

They hadn't changed a bit. Their bodies were submerged in shadow, but it was still them.

**It was still my parents.**

My eyes stung and my hands shook, as I beheld their faces after so long.

"Mommy? Daddy?" I whimpered, the camera shaking in my grasp.

My parents smiled in acknowledgement and my mom, whose hand was on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around me and laid her cheek on my shoulder; I could clearly see a hole in her chest as she moved next to me. In the footage, her arm was missing, yet here in the camera, a dark nanobite limb was jutting from her shoulder, somewhat resembling an arm. And my dad, he placed his hand on top of my head like he always did when I was little and rested his head against mine. His fingers were still missing and I could see bullet holes in his chest.

Both of them had fatal wounds, yet here they were.

I remembered reading the notes from the footage and looking up on the Walrider. It's abilities were expanding, and it's powers truly depended on its host. Knowing that and recalling the final part of Waylon Park's footage, I realized Dad…had become the Walrider, and he took Mom's dying body and saved her…at the cost of her humanity.

And although my parents were here now, after so many years, they weren't the parents I knew.

They were no longer human, but….I didn't care.

I had so many things I wanted to say, scream, yell, shout at them.

But, all I could do was weep fourteen years' worth of tears and asked them one thing:

"Are you proud of me?"

Mom and Dad, their tears like smoke against my skin, nodded and held me closer, and I swore my heart blossomed in my chest.

Though they did not possess the warmth to comfort me, I could still feel their love and that was enough.

And I remembered something.

"That night," I sniffed. "when Waylon Park told me what happened, you guys came back didn't you? When I went to sleep, you came into my bedroom and sang me to sleep with my lullaby while holding me all night. I thought it was my imagination, but it was you all along, right?"

Their faces said all, and I busted into tears again.

"You kept your promise." I whispered between my sobs and pulled out the chain from my blouse, the rings shining in the moonlight. "**You've kept your promise this whole time.**"

And they wept and held me tight, so tight that I swore I could actually **feel** them.

Then, as they both kissed my forehead, I knew this was only temporary.

"Don't go." I cried, my vision blurry. "Please, don't leave me alone anymore."

But that was an impossible request, and I knew it.

Murkoff, though it had been years, was still searching for the current host of the Walrider. And, if they took me with them or exposed themselves to the crowds by staying close to me, Murkoff would come and put me in harm's way to get to Dad and Mom.

My parents want me to live normally, and they know they cannot be near me in order for that to happen.

Yet as they both released me and backed away, I suddenly made a declaration, one from the bottom of my heart.

"**I'LL FIND A WAY!" **I screamed at the top of my lungs, my tears burning my eyes. **"EVEN IF IT TAKES ME YEARS, I'LL FIND A WAY TO BRING YOU GUYS BACK, AND THEN WE CAN BE A FAMILY AGAIN! SO, PLEASE, WAIT FOR ME!"**

They were sobbing at my words and I could see it in their eyes they desired the same thing. But, until that faithful day arrives, they have to settle for watching me grow up from afar. After granting me one last kiss, Mom and Dad faded into the darkness.

And…after so long…I heard their voices as clear as day.

"We love you, Ae-cha."

And then….they were gone, and the world started moving again.

Annie barked and wagged her tail before waddling across the gazebo, ready to go home.

But I wasn't.

Instead, I fell to my knees as my phone clattered against the gravel and stared ahead through blurry eyes.

I was going to fulfill my promise. My parents fulfilled theirs, so I will fulfill mine too. I will study and learn all I can, and I will find a way to bring my parents back.

But….that was for tomorrow.

As for now, after meeting my parents again after so long only to lose them again, I felt nothing but hollow inside.

Shutting my eyes, I collapsed to the ground and wailed at the top of my lungs, mourning everything that I had lost the moment Waylon Park sent that e-mail.

My screams echoed throughout the park, but they fell on deaf ears.

I envied Waylon Park's sons; they got their father back while I lost both of my parents.

Where was the justice in that?

Even after I screamed my throat raw, I continued to lie on the gazebo floor, staring blankly ahead at the lake while tears continued to flow down my cheeks.

In the distance, I could hear Annie barking and I knew I had to move forward now.

'I have…to be strong now.'

Wiping my eyes, I pulled myself up to my feet and trudged down the gazebo stairs.

'All human beings have their own milestones in life, some good and some bad. My parents' last milestone was a dead end, but it doesn't mean their path is over. Because where their path ends, mine begins, and I can only hope that through me, my parents' fates can change." Taking a deep breath, I raced forward and hopped onto the first stepping stone.

The road may be hard and near impossible to complete, but I will succeed in the end.

Why, you ask?

**Because I am Ae-cha Fucking Upshur, that's why.**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone for standing by "Milestones" for these past seven months. From my first reviewer to the many I have now, I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. As of this time, "Milestones" is the longest Miles/OC fic on fanfiction and the second longest completed story on fanfiction, from what I've seen anyways. Thank you so much. It has been so fun. I may do more with this idea in the future, maybe write about Miles and Young-ja and the Walrider's abilities or about Ae-cha as she works to bring her parents back. As for what happened to Young-ja, I've said some of the Walrider's abilities were creating/absorbing objects from another and how they were like the dokkabei. Well, dokkabei can change things at a price, so Miles made Young-ja part of the Walrider in exchange for her humanity/life by taking her soul. Kinda like the Horerczy, which is also what can kill the Walrider. Yet, since the Horerczy is technically the Walrider, it works. Maybe I'll expand on that someday. But, for now, thank you so much. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I was actually crying when I wrote this. Hahaha. I definitely cried writing that last line because Ae-cha stated her name, just like father did. **

**Thank you so much. It has been fun. :)**


	62. Reverse the Pendulum

**A/N: Long time no see, guys! Wow! It has been about 6 months since I finished "Milestones" but I am back for one last chapter! Why? Because it is this fic's one year anniversary! Whoooo! Time really flies huh? So to celebrate, I decided to write an alternate ending to Chapter 60, so those who wanted a different ending, please enjoy! I really missed you guys! Hope you enjoy this little surprise~**

**Please enjoy, readers~! :D**

* * *

(Young-ja)

As we hurried to the bottom floor and the exit was in sight, a part of me wanted to become stone so Waylon couldn't leave and he would have no choice but to let me get Miles.

But I let him drag me into the main lobby, and there, sitting in the doorway, was Jeremy Blaire.

I had forgotten about him, but apparently Waylon had not.

"Son of a bitch is still alive." He whispered, his grip on my hand getting tighter. "No way in Hell is he stopping us from getting out of this godforsaken place."

"Mr. Park?" Blaire groaned, his hand on his bleeding side. "How the fuck are you still alive? And, **you**! How…are you both still alive?"

"None of your business." Waylon spat, standing his ground.

"H-Hey, let's…make a deal. You help me, I'll help you." He winced, looking nothing like the arrogant bastard he was before. "God….I'm stuck like a pig."

"Where is Chris Walker when you need him?" Waylon muttered under his breath, not a single shred of remorse left in his body.

"Help me up. Please." Blaire whimpered, trying to appeal to our sympathies.

It didn't work.

"Stay close." Waylon whispered to me before pressing forward, hoping to side step around his former boss and make a run for it.

However, once we were within a foot of Blaire, everything went into slow motion.

I could see something shiny in Blaire's hand and immediately knew what it was. As Blaire pouched, whipping out a butcher knife, I yanked Waylon back.

However, I lost my balance and sent the both of us tumbling to the ground, the knife barely missing my chest by an inch.

"No one can know!" Blaire growled, limping towards us and brandishing his knife. "No one!"

We tried to crawl away, yet our injuries prevented us from getting far. As our assailant loomed closer and Waylon held his arm above us like he could protect us both, I could only do one thing.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gathered all my strength, and screamed **his** name at the top of my lungs.

"**MILES!**"

* * *

(Miles)

The moment I shut off Billy's fail safe, I watched him thrash around in his sphere, the space rapidly becoming red with its occupant's blood.

However, I couldn't enjoy my victory for long.

Before I could blink, I was slammed against the glass orb and yanked around to face a deteriorating Walrider now without a host to control it.

'Fuck!' He lifted me up and smashed me against the concrete wall, my vision turning white for a moment.

With a pitiful gasp, I collapsed to the ground, holding my camcorder to my chest as I whimpered in agony.

'I should've expected this. I should've known!'

As I tried to crawl away, I was suddenly yanked up by my ankle and dragged across the floor.

"**No! NO! NO!**" I crawled at the concrete floor before I was tossed into the air and slammed against the wall.

Then…words cannot describe the ungodly and immeasurable pain that tore through my body as the Walrider stuck its claws into my abdomen and tore into my insides.

I couldn't breathe. The buzzing and whispering were now swarming throughout my body, and pulsing through my veins until I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside.

'I lied. I don't want to die. Not here. **NOT HERE**!'

Then, just when I couldn't take it anymore, I was plummeting to the ground and screamed as I felt several of my bones shatter from the fall.

And I laid there, feeling nothing yet feeling everything.

The buzzing and whispers had disappeared, but something else had taken its place.

Something I didn't want to think about.

Letting out a pathetic sob, I lifted myself up onto my elbows and slowly crawled to my feet.

'It's all over now. Please…give me enough strength to make it out of here. Let me make it outside.'

With a hand supporting my cracked ribs, I hobbled to the stairway, my vision fading in and out with every step I took.

My throat tasted of copper, and I cried every time I collapsed to the ground, my body slowly shutting down.

But I refused to die.

Not here.

Just…let me feel the sunlight.

"Can't you grant me at least that?!" I screamed, dragging myself to my feet again. "Can't you?!"

Suddenly, a voice boomed from inside my head, and my entire body froze. It was an airy yet commanding voice, like a combination of the infuriating static and whispers.

"_Host….._"

"Walrider?" I gasped, falling to my knees and clutching my head, feeling like claws were ripping out of my temples. The sensation from the lab reappeared at full force, and I involuntarily grasped my abdomen, letting this horrible revelation wash over me.

I've become the Walrider.

"_Host…"_ It spoke up again, louder this time.

I didn't respond at first, just stared at the lights above me through red, blurry vision.

Was this due to optic damage or exhaustion?

'No.' I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. 'These must be…my tears.'

"….What is it?" I finally answered, placing my hands over my eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"_Creator…waits beyond hallway….he brings your doom…._"

"Wernicke?" I hissed, my ribs poking against my lungs. "He's…going…to kill me?"

"_Yes. He wants to erase this all. Everything you have done will be for naught._"

Rage bubbled up my chest, and I gritted my teeth.

"So…this is how it's going to be." I scoffed, letting my hands fall to my sides. "He gets me to do his dirty work…then takes my life as a thank you."

"_Let's kill him. Use me as you will, Host._"

"W-What?!" I turned around, as if I could see the damn thing.

"_You loathe Creator for what he has done. I could feel it when we merged. You are stronger than Billy Hope…a more powerful Host_" Chills ran down my spine, as if it was running its fingers down it. "We_ can do more…together.."_

I said nothing, just heaved myself up against the wall and continued stumbling down the hallway, the asylum's patients flashing through my mind.

Father Martin, The Twins, Eddie Gluskin, Chris Walker ….and Billy Hope.

Some of the biggest threats…yet some biggest victims of Mount Massive Asylum. They were all sacrificed to bring the parasite infesting my body to life.

…The parasite…in…**my body**.

When I reached the double doors, they whipped opened before me, and there stood a batch of armed military officers with Wernicke sitting behind them, a blank expression on his face.

Just like the Walrider said.

For a brief moment, I considered pleading for my life, but then…I heard it.

Young-ja's voice.

**"MILES!"**

She's…calling out to me.

**I…I have to go..to her…**

**I have…to see her...!**

And with that declaration, I felt something snapped inside me before my heart began beating rapidly in my chest.

"Ready on Five!" The lieutenant commanded and all seven guns were aimed at me.

I gazed down at my hands and saw they were becoming covered in a dark cloud that was quickly climbing up my body.

'How ironic.' I scoffed to myself. 'I went through Hell and back…just to become a monster in the end.'

The infernal buzzing flooded my mind, and I felt myself lift off the floor.

"Gott im Himmel. You…have become the host."

"_Kill them._" The Walrider screamed. "_KILL THEM N-!"_

"Shut up." I growled, silencing its screams. "I'm nothing like Billy. I control you, not the other way around."

The soldiers fired at me, their bullets leaving not a single scratch on me.

The room began pulsing and **everything…had…become…red.**

"I am getting the fuck out of here." I whispered, the nanites pulsing through my veins. "And you are going to come along quietly."

And I dashed forward, the hallways soon echoing with the bloodcurdling screams of Wernicke and the soldiers.

* * *

(Young-ja)

My throat burned and tasted of raw copper, punishment for my useless plea.

When Blaire finally loomed above us, I waited for him to bring his blade down. But, in the distance, I heard familiar whispering rising from the ground.

'Billy?'

Suddenly, the Walrider shot out of the floor and lifted Blaire into the air.

"**GRAH? WHAT THE FUCK…..! OH GOD! OH CHRIST IN HEAVEN HOW DID IT GET OUT?!**"

The Walrider wrapped itself around Blarie's flailing body and snapped him into pieces, raining his blood down on Waylon and me.

As Waylon gasped and covered his face, I stared up at where the Walrider was, tears streaming down my cheeks as his name slipped through my lips again.

"**…Mi…les**?"

The Walrider lowered itself to the ground, and Waylon quickly gathered me into his arms, glaring at the shadowy figure.

"St-Stay away!" He cried, frantically reaching of Blaire's knife and pointing at the 'demon'.

The figure laughed, its voice a mixture of Miles' and static; I covered my mouth as the Walrider stepped forward and I could truly see it was my husband.

His entire body was made of black smoke that faded in and out with the sunlight and his eyes—those beautiful green eyes—were now pure red.

Miles…had become the Walrider.

'What have they done to you?'

"Upshur?!" Waylon gasped, his eye wide and mouth agape. "What the-?!"

"_You're a shitty bodyguard, Park._" 'Miles' sneered, the cloud engulfing him becoming thicker. "_I give you one job and you can't even do it right._"

Waylon glared at him but helped me to my feet, and slowly, I inched towards him.

"Miles…" I reached out and touched his cheek, his skin like tiny spiders crawling over my hand.

He averted his eyes, and his arms were suspended in mid-air, like he wasn't sure if he could touch me or not.

"They're all dead." Miles whispered, staring down at his hands. "Billy Hope, Wernicke, and all his guards."

"Then that means…" Waylon started, his voice trailing off.

"Yes." He smirked. "I'm in control of the Walrider now."

And though he said it with a smile, I could see a flash of pain in his eyes and knew it was still Miles.

Without a word, I wrapped my arm around him and buried my face in his chest.

"Young-ja?"

"Let's go." I sobbed, holding him as tight as possible. "Back to our house…our family…our baby."

Miles went still in my arm before speaking in a hushed tone.

"I'm not human anymore, Young-ja. How can I-?"

"I don't care…."I stared him dead in the eye. "Walrider or not….you're still…**my Miles**."

Then, with a weak smile, I got on my toes and kissed him, hearing him gasp in surprise before he slowly reciprocated it, wrapping his arms around my waist. His tears, which felt like smoke, mingled with mine, and as I pulled away, Miles' eyes were green once again and the cloud had faded away. He held me close and kissed me once more before looking at up at Waylon.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

As the Jeep pulled out of the gate, all three of us stared at the retreating building in the rear view mirror. Once we were back on the trail, I gazed at Miles who was driving, one hand on the steering wheel and the other clutching mine. I turned behind us, seeing Waylon staring out the window with a faraway look in his eyes. And behind Waylon, nestled in the trunk, was my bike.

Even as we drove farther away for the asylum, I knew better than to breathe easy. No, there was still plenty of trouble ahead.

But, we were all alive and that was all that mattered.

So, with that in mind, I allowed myself to close my eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep.

We were alive.

**We were alive.**

* * *

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed, bandages covering my body. I peeked at my missing arm, the sight of sterile bandaging bringing a tiny smile to my face. With a small groan, I reached up and touched my neck, feeling surgical tape wrapped around it.

"How do you feel?" A voice mumbled from my left, and I turned to see it was Miles. While he wasn't a mummy like I was, he looked so physically and mentally worn out. No doubt from the strain of keeping the Walrider in check.

"I'm fine.." My voice was still hoarse, but it didn't hurt as much now. "Did..the doctors'..find anything?"

"No." He reached out and caressed my cheek. "But they are suspicious about how quickly my injuries have healed."

That's right. The Walrider can heal itself.

"Though," Miles chuckled, holding his hands out. "I wish the son of a bitch let my fingers grow back."

I gave a light chuckle, not wanting my wounds to open up, and grabbed his left hand. I brought his knuckles to my lips and kissed each one of them.

"We did it." I whispered against his skin. "We made it out…"

Miles let out a small gasp, a pained expression on his face.

"…We did." He moved to lie next to me on the bed, resting his head next to mine. Then silence filled the room as we held each other. I gazed into his eyes, noting that while they were green, there was now a ring of red within the iris; I held him tighter at the realization.

"I love you, Miles."

"And I love you, Young-ja."

The kiss that followed was like no other. All of our feelings, both negative and positive, were rolled into it, and we clung to each other, afraid this all was a cruel dream and we'd wake up back at the asylum.

But as a commotion echoed down the hall and the door whipped open, we knew this was not a dream but sweet reality.

"**MOMMY! DADDY!**" Ae-cha cried, launching herself off the ground and into our arms.

Miles and I fiercely wept, holding our baby close while she did the same.

"My baby." I breathed, burying my nose in her hair. "Oh my baby girl."

"My little Cheerio." Miles laughed, tears staining his cheeks as he kissed her tiny hands while embracing the two of us.

Then, a small bark was heard and we looked down at find Annie at the foot of the bed.

"Hey there, Cinnamon Roll Butt." Miles lifted her up on the bed and chuckled as she peppered his face with 'kisses' before doing the same to me.

I couldn't feel an inch of pain anymore, now that the people most important to me were in my arms.

Despite the challenges that laid ahead, I didn't care.

And when our parents rushed in, bombarding us with hugs and kisses—yes, even my parents—I thought this must be what heaven felt like.

Then, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Ae-cha place something in Miles' palm.

"You kept your promise, Daddy." She grinned. "Welcome home."

* * *

(Miles)

After being discharged from the hospital, Waylon and I contacted that man from ViraLeaks, the same website I used to upload the Afghanistan footage. Julian explained about the danger we were damning ourselves to, but it was all stuff I was well aware of. I already knew my life as Miles Upshur, investigative journalist was over. Instead, I was going to fulfill the promise I made to Young-ja. We were going to take our babies and disappear somewhere, anywhere, as long as the four of us could be at peace. I didn't know where Park and his family were going, but we would try to keep in contact. As much a pain in ass as he is, it wouldn't be right to cut him off after what we've been through. Ae-cha also seemed fond of his sons, and I wasn't going to deprive her of any friends. Young-ja's voice was starting to come back, and she was learning to live with only one arm. I will never stop hating myself for what happened to her, yet Young-ja is always smiling and tells me that having her family is all she needs. God, I love her so much.

I gazed at my reflection on the laptop screen, a red eyed shadow staring back at me. From time to time, the Walrider's voice would break through and it was difficult to keep it under control. Sometimes my eyes would revert to red and my body would be submerged in nanomites. The Walrider was created to be a machine for war, but I wouldn't let it use my body for that. It was right when it said I was stronger than Billy, but that is because I have something Billy didn't.

I have my family.

Despite all the shit I've seen, my body wasn't consumed by anger and fear like Billy was. I wasn't tortured like him and the other patients were.

And so, maybe in a fucked up kind of way, it is destiny the Walrider ended up inside of me. Yes, I can never go back to the life I once had, but I had Young-ja and my family by my side.

So life goes on.

Cracking a smile, I hit the 'Upload' button and closed the laptop.

**Life goes on.**

* * *

**A/N: Ahh! Happy (somewhat) ending! So I hope this AU chapter made you guys happy! (I made me happy, though the original chapter 60 is still the canon ending. *cries*) But Happy 1 Year Anniversary to "Milestones". I'm so happy for the support I received from this fic, I still am after all this time! And have you guys seen the demo for Outlast 2?! It has a husband and wife in it! (Silkyterrier34 and I did it first though! Hahaha! just kidding!) And the main character, Blake, is voiced acted by the same guy who did Miles and Waylon, i think! Please check it out! I'm hyped for it! Anyways, hope you guys liked this little surprise! Thanks again for the wonderful year and memories! May we see each again soon! :D **


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